What You See Might Not Be What You Get

The wives of the great and the good have always thought themselves entitled to intervene in the lives of others. Cooking the dinners, fixing the placement, listening to the table chit chat, often reasonably well-educated if not necessarily intelligent, they demand a share in the outside fun.

Some of them want formal office and recognition, piggy-backed on their husband's power that they believe was achieved uniquely with their support. Cherie Blair was one, and Hillary Clinton's presumption was monstrous. On a more rational scale there are the Wives littering local councils and, even more now that quango-power has triumphed, bringing in good money from the opportunity to provide a good dinner, a decent house, and comforts to the patronage classes.

When choosing a representative (admittedly a rare privilege in today's United Kingdom) look carefully at who they are shacked-up with. That person will be fired with frustrated ambition, self-regard, a sense of rights denied, and astonishing notions of entitlement. And they will be on every local and national board, commission, grant-giving body, governors, directors, rulers - you name it.

The sight of Sarah Brown glad handing miners' widows in Cardenden should freeze the marrow of the bones.