And in Darnick, Sam Smiles turned to Jasmine Juniper-Green and said: "we took our eyes off the ball there, didn't we?" and Jasmine couldn't but notice the inclusive 'we', so asked: "we did?" at which Sam smiled ruefully: "I have to admit I'd completely forgotten about the fellow, not a patch on Pantagruel of course, quite a bit younger, and I'd always thought of him as a Jobsworth, a Card-Puncher, you know the type, head down, working for his pension – actually, that's where he'd started, in the old Min of Pen, the Ministry of Pensions and National Insurance, and he seems to have quietly worked his way up the ladder and then, after the débâcle, as I think of it, the General Election, when poor Theresa had to get rid of all her Special Advisers and such, she shunted out her previous Cabinet Secretary and this guy, Sir Porcupine MacFarlane just happens to be among the three most senior candidates in the First Division and she goes and plumps for him," and he blushed slightly, and for one so rarely lateritious it was always in extremis, saying: "if you'll pardon the pun?" and Jasmine, no supporter of Mrs Maybe-Maybenot, grinned back: "so she made her own bed?" and Sam, suddenly brighter: "well, broom cupboard or some such, with the bad luck to have a window in direct line of sight from a tree in Horse Guards Road where an amateur ornithologist was supposedly trying to get shots of a particular bird and just happened to notice something through his viewfinder, cranked his telephoto lens and Bingo!" and Jasmine asked: "coincidence?" at which Sam, who didn't believe in coincidence, a strictly ovine concept in his opinion, snorted: "my arse! if you'll forgive me – not in a million years, more of a set-up and MacFarlane must be behind it; of course it isn't a criminal offence, they've certainly not committed hostis humani generis for goodness sake – although some members of her own back benches behave as if she were worse than Idi Amin, and I'm the last one to try to vindicate her, or indeed any PM who makes a mess of things, I always remember that old maxim: if you find yourself in a hole, stop digging, and it's something our politicians seem unable to learn, and really this particular engagement is replicated in offices up and down the country, but the arrival of Phillipe Tout Le Monde and particularly the Tangerine woman creates a more delicate situation in view of all the leaks from the Cabinet over the past few weeks; Tout Le Monde has been the subject of rather vitriolic briefings and Theresa had just forbidden Cabinet Members from speaking about who said what to whom when this rendezvous in the cupboard took place; now it's pretty obvious who's been doing the leaking, and I would certainly suspect his involvement in this latest cause celebre," which prompted Jasmine to ask: "who?" and he chuckled: "my money's on Archie Andrews!"