Tamzin Lightwater

Monday Is anyone paying attention out there? Where on earth did people get the idea that we would be offering tax cuts during our first term of office? We have been quite explicit that while we would like to see tax cuts — and indeed we’ve provided an exhaustive list of the tax cuts we would, in theory, like to offer — this will, in fact, not be at all possible. We really can’t be clearer than that. So let’s have less of this silly outrage every time nice Mr Hammond restates the policy. I don’t like to make threats. But does Dave have to promise to raise taxes before you all back off? Please, do not tempt him.

Oh dear. We lost the war of Obama buzzwords at the weekend. Now there’s an inquest to find out how Gordon managed to get compared to Barack before Dave. Monday Oh dear. We lost the war of Obama buzzwords at the weekend. Now there’s an inquest to find out how Gordon managed to get compared to Barack before Dave. I just don’t understand it. All that briefing. All those meticulously written speeches with the mandatory 25 mentions of the word ‘change’. Jed says we are going to be subject to even tighter rules now. If we can’t be trusted to do a simple bit of rebranding by means of self-regulation, then he will bring in tough sanctions.

Monday Thank goodness I keep a diary. I want to put on record here so that future generations of Lightwaters can see that it was my idea to have Our Leader encounter a great white ‘shark’ while surfing in South Africa! Moreover I picked out the blue, Malibu-cut Vilebrequins Dave was wearing while fleeing the ‘shark’. And I was in charge of the photos of him emerging from the sea looking like a dark-haired Daniel Craig. Of course Poppy and Suzie are trying to take all the credit but Jed knows it was me. He says if he can find someone else to take over pot plant and ambience management, he will move me to a permanent role as part of the team overseeing strategic directional development of Dave’s Sex Appeal.

Monday Do I have to do everything around here? Silly Suzie from Dave’s office is too frightened to ask Lord A to move a load of packing boxes he’s left outside his office so she’s ordered me to do it. I’m to tell him he can’t leave them in the corridor any longer as everyone is tripping over them. Why me? Suzie says he likes me. I find that hard to believe but here goes . . . No joy. Lord A’s people say I’m to tell Dave’s people that His Lordship has no intention of telling him when or even whether he intends to move the packing boxes inside his office. It suits him to have them in the corridor so that’s where they are staying. They did look an awful mess. Still, he can do what he likes with his own junk I suppose.

Monday Dave says we are absolutely not withdrawing the whip from poor Mr Conway. If we do such a thing, where will it end? Which MP hasn’t at some point given their son a Saturday job answering the phones at the family home? Whose office is not stuffed full of family and friends, all working their socks off for the Great Conservative Victory? It’s what we Tories do, you see: pull together in times of national need. DD furious at the very suggestion that we might humiliate a former whip and his oldest ally. He put forward a lot of forceful arguments during a special huddle. ‘Blood’s thicker than water; lifelong servant of the party; knows where all the bodies are buried.’ Etc. All v powerful stuff. At one point, Dave was virtually moved to tears.

Monday Am engaged on top secret mission — the accidental snapping by a tabloid photographer of Sam nipping out for late-night essentials on the mean streets of west London! We first planned for her to be caught buying fair-trade mozzarella in Partridges on Gloucester Road but Jed said this wasn’t gritty enough. So she’s going to go somewhere really downbeat in North Kensington — with security to make sure she doesn’t get mugged, of course. We can’t leave safety to chance. Not with London in the grip of a crime wave, and all of Britain beaten down and driven to acts of desperation by the lash of recession. Must say, this Northern Rock business is causing considerable problems.

Monday Got back to complete chaos after my winter spa break with mummy. Any de-stress and/or slimming benefit from seaweed and salt wraps entirely lost in first three minutes in this place. When I left, Labour was embroiled in sleaze. Now Gids — of all people! — is accidentally forgetting to declare donations because Commons officials said he might not have to. A lot of other shadow cabinet members who will remain nameless here seem to have made the same silly oversight. Of course, our sleaze is a lot cleaner than Labour sleaze. That goes without saying. But it’s all jolly inconvenient. Instead of being able to get on with my Boris merchandise (the new wigs are in, non-flammable this time!), am seconded on to horrid Donations Row Fallout Management Sub-Committee.

JANUARY 2007 As we await the coming of the Force of Darkness, work begins on election posters featuring Gordon as Darth Vader. Tory coffers bulging in preparation for the fight, half a million raised in one evening at a party at Blenheim. Pol Roger champagne flowing and as much caviar as you can eat (for only £5,000!). Back at HQ we launch our ‘Live Life For Less’ campaign, teaching poor people to be thrifty. We unveil plans to ban fast food, and clamp down on other ‘social pollutants’ such as Edward Leigh. FEBRUARY A lot of nosy-parkers demand to know whether we are going to cut taxes. As we haven’t the faintest idea, we are able to skilfully resist demands to formulate policy.

Sunday Weekend duty totally ruined by silly Sayeeda’s trip to Sudan. Spent all day yesterday fielding calls for pre-trip interviews, but she couldn’t do any of them because she had an urgent appointment at Daniel Galvin for a cut and blow dry before she went to the airport. Dave and Mr Hague think it’s all v bad idea and will go horribly wrong on account of her uncanny knack of saying exactly the wrong thing at precisely the wrong time. Jed declared at one point it would have been better to send Mr Hague and let him ‘bore Bashir rigid about how Islam is just like Judo’. Monday The row has reached Wibberley! Busy Bees nursery displaying a Mickey Mouse called Mohammed in its front window.

Monday Am worried and confused. Just back from Forward Planning Meeting and whole of Grid for next three months is choc-a-bloc with extremely scary stuff. Clampdowns on everything from malingering benefit claimants to selfish single mums. New catchphrases include: ‘Prison Works’, ‘On Your Bike!’ and ‘Women! Know your working limits!’ Nothing about the environment. Not a mention of my idea for an ethical Xmas gifts campaign based around Dave visiting Malawi to present a desperate family with a goat on behalf of each modernising participant. Only thing that was even remotely compassionate was clampdown on multi-faith nativity plays. And that was only a bit nice because we are going to ‘bring back Jesus in a manger’.

Monday This Aitken business is all v confusing. Has led to heated debates about some extremely odd-sounding things that happened ten years ago. I thought Mr Blair invented ‘sleaze’! But it seems there were all sorts of shocking goings-on in the 1990s under poor Mr Major. Poppy knows all about them, of course, and thinks it terribly amusing that I don’t. Well, excuse me if I wasn’t reading Parliament Today under the duvet in my chalet in Switzerland when I was 18! I guess I just had too much fun to be getting on with — not to mention upmarket catering. (It’s not easy helping large groups of people to burn their own fondue, you know). It was hardly surprising that I embarrassed myself this morning by asking who Piers Merchant was.

Monday Whisked to Oxfordshire with Jed and Wonky Tom as part of Queen’s Speech preparation team! Spent whole day in outer inner sanctum!! Dave was in kitchen with his River Cottage apron on making slow-roast organic pork sandwiches when we arrived. If only people could see him like this, we would definitely win the next election. (Actually, Bonny from events was filming with the hand-held, so I guess people will see it at some point, luckily!) There were so many issues to cover we split into sub-groups. I was on ‘Gordon Small Talk’ committee. Dave v worried about what to say on the long walk across central lobby to the House of Lords. After three sarnies (yummy!) finally came up with some killer lines that will have the two of them chatting like old chums in no time.

Monday Dear me! How are we supposed to have a grown up argument about immigration when silly Lithuanian ambassadors can’t see the funny side of a little joke about one-legged dance troupes? If you ask me, people with names that look like the last line of the optician’s testing chart shouldn’t be allowed to start rows. It creates an awful lot of press releases which the spellcheck on the word processor can’t handle. Jed says we’ll only stop it by sending Mr Hague to Vilnius to eat humble Cepelinai, whatever that means. Thank goodness am getting out of office to help Dave do Sky News . . . Later: What is going on? We were only at Sky five minutes when we managed to get into another row.

Monday Great balls of justiciable fire! If one more person asks me to write a memo about ‘opt-outs’ I will explode. People are talking in fluent Alphabetti Spaghetti. It’s all ‘IGC mandates’ this, and ‘QMV’ that, as if anyone had the faintest clue what they were on about. And what are ‘justiciable rights’ anyway, when they are at home? Clearly a made-up word or a mistake by the silly Belgian translators. Disgraced myself this morning by asking if The Passerelle Clause was a book written by Robert Harris. How was I to know it was another bit of the beastly Constitution, or whatever they are calling it now.... Stole a copy of The Bluffer’s Guide to the EU Treaty from Foxy’s office.

Sunday Bonjour, mes amis! Am in Paris for Compassionate Conservative hen weekend! All the girls from the office are here giving Abby from Dave’s team a Right-Of-Centre-Yet-Modern send-off. Staying in what Poppy describes as a dump, but is actually a boho chic boutique hotel (I checked the brochure). We were going to stay at a place called the George but it flooded, or something. Every time we drive down the Champs Elysées everyone sighs, and says, ‘Ah, the George sank’. V odd. Also, what is ‘Urmeez’ — and what does it have to do with scarves? Anyway, big party tonight. We are dressing up as blue bunny girls and going to a bar where there are lots of rugby fans. Dave’s sent a telegram which I’m going to read out.

Monday What can I say?! Happiness and General Wellbeing levels through roof! Dave is the greatest! We’re definitely going to win in 2009!! But more importantly, I have been seconded on to the Brown Attack Unit! Am at centre of fevered preparations ahead of PMQs involving cut-throat political strategy. So far have come up with Great Clunking Cowardy Custard and Big Fat Miserable Loser. For some reason, neither of these seem to have made it on to Jed’s shortlist of insults to be hurled across dispatch box by Dave, but there’s time yet. Have never seen Gids so happy. He’s commissioned limited-edition flock wallpaper with the words ‘I Told You Gordon Was Crap!’ in fancy lettering. So glad it came right for him in the end.