THE Information Tribunal this week ordered the release of records from key cabinet meetings. Less reported was its decision that Gordon Brown's diary should also be made public. Here is an exclusive extract:
Gordon Brown's diary, a v important day, January 2009
Banks that went under, none (vg) Job cuts, lots (non vg) Calls from the man who matters, 1, vvvvgggggg
7am: Is expected Mr President will call European leaders today. Is crucial I am called
first. On behalf of Britain, I mean. Feel jittery as a market. Have done 1471 ten times, checking 'last number called' in case Mr President phoned whilst I was in bathroom combing hair. Oh, I don't comb hair. Still. It's early in Washington.
8am: Phone!
8.02am: Was Alistair. I gasped in disappointment. He said: 'Oh no not another bank!'
8.20am: Was doing 1471 repeatedly when an aide walked in. Pretended I had been given calculator that looked like a phone for Christmas and was checking tax receipts.
10am: Waaah! Why has Mr President not called yet? We have special relationship.
11am: Have done 1471 25 more times. Then came knock on door. Was Scottish party aide asking did I want haggis sandwich? Was going to say no – advisers say I must not look too Scottish – till remembered more Burns suppers held in England than Scotland this year. Burns has been accepted 'dahn sarf'. How, damn him?
Midday: Phone!
12.01pm: Was Peter Mandelson. What should we do about cars, he asked. Mr President is just phoning, I said. He doesn't need a lift.
12.30pm: Must plan wardrobe for Davos forum. Economic chat then skiing difficult fashion junction. Assume am still going. Will quickly do 1471 again first.
Heaven o'clock: Don't know what time. Don't care.
Mr President called!!! And he called me first. Angela Merkel will drown self in Liebfraumilch. Sarko will hit Chardonnay. No, is teetotal. Better. Will be soberly aware of 'le humiliation'. Mr President and I had warm and loving chat. Well, we talked about finance. He was confident. Not arrogant though. No, no, he is not smug-elected. Am happiest PM in world. Have genuine smile on face for first time ever.
Ten minutes after Heaven o'clock: Bad thought. Mr President always has Blackberry in hand. Did he text Sarko before me? Was he texting Sarko as he spoke to me? Think did hear opening bars of Star Spangled Banner during conversation. What is Mr President's text tone?
Twenty minutes after Heaven o'clock: Second bad thought. Must also check Twitter for a White House tweet. If I find 'Barack Obama is … speaking to Angela Merkel' earlier than my call will never talk to Mr President again. Huh!
A lower class of nibbleEITHER the credit crunch has created a rising number of art connoisseurs, or people are looking for a cheap night out, because attendance at gallery private views is on the up. Most private views – the supposedly exclusive first showing of an exhibition – serve a warm glass of wine and cold canapés. At some places, it's the other way round. Sushi is the nibble of the moment, but to feed the crowds, gallery owners may soon be seeking something cheaper. Are we, then, about to see the renaissance of the vol-au-vent? Or the party sausage roll? And are makers of Scottish savouries poised to capitalise on this new market for the credit-crunch canapé? Imagine the chit-chat in the art world. "Can I tempt you to a party Bridie? No? A mini Scotch pie? Darling, delicious."
• THE kebab industry is looking dodgier than your stomach after one.
Too much salt, says a report. All your saturated fat for the entire day, it goes on. So what's likely to happen, eh?
Fewer people will buy kebabs. There will be kebab sales. No one will go near them. What then? Might this sector also angle for government help, whereupon Britain could have a nationalised kebab industry?
Surely not. Kebabs are about the only industry you'd think a private company would still want to buy up, pare back brutally and make more profit. There's plenty of fat to cut away.
