Harry Mount

If you’re a celeb with a burning grievance, the hottest place in town is an unassuming, Georgian terraced house in Gray’s Inn, Holborn. Five Raymond Buildings is the number one libel set in the country. And its most prominent barrister is David Sherborne, aka ‘Orange Sherbet’ – the permatanned schmoozer with the wind-tugged, auburn tresses. Sherborne is currently representing Coleen Rooney, wife of ex-England footballer Wayne Rooney, in the ‘Wagatha Christie’ case. She’s being sued for defamation by Rebekah Vardy, wife of Leicester striker Jamie Vardy. Mrs Vardy disputes Mrs Rooney’s allegation that Vardy leaked stories about her to the Sun.

The government has gone wild. Under new plans, just announced by Environment Secretary George Eustice, farmers and landowners in England could be paid to turn large areas of land into nature reserves and restore floodplains. In place of the old EU subsidies, farmers will be rewarded by the government for how much they care for the environment. It sounds like a wonderful idea — a return to a glorious, prelapsarian wilderness. But it’s a little more complicated than that. Eustice referred warmly to the poster boy of rewilding, the Knepp estate in West Sussex. I’ve been to Knepp and it is indeed glorious. Nightingales have returned, accompanied by clouds of Purple Emperor butterflies. There are even White Storks nesting in the trees.

Yesterday, at the Trust’s AGM, Restore Trust – the body which wants to stop the dumbing-down and politicisation of the Trust – didn’t win. But it has made an enormous impact for a body which was only set up last summer and now has 20,000 members and a £60,000 war chest. Restore Trust put forward three resolutions. It won one of them: a proposal to disclose in full the pay of the National Trust's senior staff. It lost the other two: one regretting the loss of expert curators; the other deploring the recent treatment of volunteers. The scale of the loss, though, was small – by 54,708 votes to 57,164 on curators; by 56,267 to 59,015 on volunteers. In both cases, the Trust only won because they used their 20,000 or so discretionary votes.

Flying to Kalamata this week, I did my own little bit to reduce the terrible queues at Heathrow Terminal 5. Heroically, I stacked up the grey luggage trays once they’d been emptied by passengers coming through security. As a result, there were more loaded trays for people to pick up, and a smaller tailback of passengers — including me — waiting to pick up their unloaded trays. It was just a tiny example of the hundreds of things that could be done to reduce queues in airports, hospitals, train stations, supermarkets… The British may be famous for their patient queueing but it doesn’t mean we actually like doing it. So why hasn’t more been done to eradicate queues?

John le Carré, the master of British spy stories, may have died last December, aged 89. But the dastardly world of double agents he relished in exposing lives on. A British man has been arrested in Germany on suspicion of spying for Russia. German federal prosecutors allege that the man — named only as 'David S' and said to work at the British Embassy in Berlin — passed documents to Russian intelligence 'at least once' in return for an 'unknown amount' of money. Berlin was the epicentre of le Carré’s world of espionage. He served as a spy in Germany himself and his breakout hit, The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, is set in Berlin.

Last week, a 20-year-old student came into my office, looking for work experience this summer. He was so polite — in a shy, understated, non-oily way — that I was very keen to help him. It was like meeting a time-traveller from the 1950s: no showing-off, just a gentle display of intelligence teased out from behind his veil of self-effacement. He even washed up his cup after I’d told him he didn’t need to. I must introduce a Teacup Test for future interviewees, to see what they do with the cup at the end of the interview. It’s inspired by the Escalator Test, invented by a colleague at the Evening Standard a few years ago. He would watch interviewees leave our office by the down escalator in Northcliffe House, Kensington.

However impressive Prince Philip was in photographs, it didn’t compare to his imposing bearing in the flesh.  When I met him in 2015 – at a lunch at the Cavalry and Guards Club for the Gallipoli Association to commemorate the centenary of the Gallipoli campaign – he was 93. He looked 20 years younger in his immaculate, navy-blue suit, with not an ounce of fat on his lean figure. At the pre-lunch drinks, he’d shaken off his assistants, and was roaming the drawing room at will, hands tucked behind his back, hawk-like visage searching the room for – not quite prey, but some kind of interesting diversion. I was there because my great-grandfather, Lord Longford, father of the prison reformer, had been killed at Gallipoli.

And so the National Trust’s crazed attack on its own properties goes blazing on. Their latest self-hating wheeze is to get children to write poems attacking Britain’s history. One hundred primary school pupils have been taken around the Trust’s country houses before they compose poems about the former owners’ connections with the British Empire. It’s all part of the Trust’s 'Colonial Countryside' project, which since 2018 has been highlighting ties between the Trust’s houses and imperialism. And so, at lovely Charlecote Park, Warwickshire, one child wrote this about the jewelled dress sword and scabbard looted from Lucknow during the Indian mutiny of 1857: 'Stolen by the English; a freedom sword, a stolen freedom sword.