People ask me from whence comes my trademark erudition. It was, of course, courtesy of a traditional British education founded squarely on the 3 Rs – Reading, Writing and Spelling. And of course in my day you couldn't matriculate without passing a strict test in Reading, which is a nice enough town, although why they made us go all way over there was never fully explained. After that I went up to Cambridge where I had a lovely weekend.
Then, still back in the seventies, I joined Her Majesty's Constabulary, which wasn't all fun and games. In fact it was nothing like those recruitment advertizements I remember from my childhood; the one with the funny little chap with the big nose, the crocodile and the string of sausages. There was an embarrassing occasion when we had one of our unmarked cars stolen. It took months to find it, what with the search being hampered because we couldn't issue a description. It was a Special Branch vehicle and we didn't want anyone to know what it looked like.
Not long afterwards, I arrested a woman shoplifter outside the local Italian restaurant who a whole salami hidden in her underwear. When I questioned her she explained that she was missing her Italian boyfriend. Which just goes to show that one shouldn't always expect the worst.
I left the police not long afterwards and started my political career, as I no longer recognized the country I was living in.
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