I met the Prime Minister for the first time this week at his summer party for the political lobby in the back garden of 10 Downing Street.

Being lead around by Damian McBride, who was making sure that the poor love was not caught on a one-to-one basis with any trouble seeking hacks and with his wife Sarah by his side, the Prime Minister addressed small groups of gossip-hungry hacks six at a time.

Having just dealt with a ‘climate change’ enthusiast super glue himself to his jacket at a previous reception as a means of protest, Gordon appeared in good spirits even if he was longing to get the evening over and done with.

Making small talk over holiday plans the Prime Minster looked surprisingly well and far than they greyish figure than I often witness at Prime Ministers Questions.

Taken back by this I found myself staring, trying to work out just how must he be feeling knowing that his back garden was full of people set on bringing him down.

As time ticked by, I became aware I needed to be somewhere else. So having drunk his wine, explored the garden and located the Wendy house, I took it upon myself to shy away from etiquette and break from the journo pack pursuing the PM on an individual basis.

Taking my chance as McBride began to lead Gordon away for a quick photo call, in true whirlwind action I tapped the PM on the shoulder and muttered “excuse me Prime Minister.”

To my shock he stopped, turned around, shook my hand and apologised for not having yet said hello to me. I explained I worked for the Daily Express and was new to the role; he said he had noticed I was ‘a new one’ and was looking forward to talking to me as I seemed very nice. He then went on to ask me how I was finding it and what my ambitions were.

He seemed genuinely interested I me and kept eye contact the whole time. Whereas Blair could command an audience, I would say Brown is best on a one to one basis and is interested in ‘people.’ Thus I am afraid to say I was impressed.

But then it came to crunch. Said the Prime Minister: “So, are you intent on causing trouble being the Daily Express?”
Me trouble? Never..
 
Has anyone asked just where Gordon was though at around 7pm on Wednesday night?

For somewhere over in Portobello Road, Tory leader David Cameron lost a dear old friend.

Having just popped in to get some salad from Tesco Metro (funny I thought he grew his own stuff in the back garden?) Dave emerged to find his bike missing, in fact stolen.

Apparently a gaggle of teenage yobs lifted his bike away from the bollard and ran off with it, leaving poor David, in his white shorts and socks, trailing the street asking if anyone had seen his bike.

Never before has David appeared so upset: in fact he probably gave the best show of emotion so far in his political career when he sighed to BBC cameras that he ‘just wanted his bike back.’

But look on the bright side David, the coverage of this just shows how obsessed we have all become with you. Front page headlines on the Standard and page leads in the next days Nationals.

Gordon would kill for that publicity.