There's lovelorn Gordon, a vision in white, resplendent in veil and tiara, weeping bitter tears and crying down the aisle "It shoulda been me!" What a ghastly thought. Jilted he has been but like poor old Miss Haversham he hangs on, waiting for old love to claim him.
Except we won't, because we didn't choose him, Tony did, and his passion is spent. He popped by briefly, just for old time's sake, but you could see his heart wasn't in it, the romance was obviously dead. Will gorgeous Nick come to his rescue? Er, No. Just don't fancy you Gordon mate, sorry. They never looked like natural bed-fellows did they?
Beginning to see what Labour have been up against all this time. We all said ages ago: " Dump the loser!" but they never seemed to listen. Now we can understand what they were up against. The limpet-like qualities of Mr Brown can not be underestimated. He sticks closer than paint on a wall. There's just no budging him.
He still thinks he is the right man for the job."I'll work with the others when they call me," he says. Don't sit too long by the phone Gordon, it's just too, too heartbreaking.
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