JUST when you thought it was all going to be over and that we could get back to the job in hand, like trying to make our once-great country great once more, what do we get — arguments.

Oh, sorry — diplomatic discussions — all weekend about who’s going to give in over representational voting.

Well I don’t know about you, but at this precise moment it’s not the most prioritised item on my list of things that I want the new government to be concentrating on.

We need strong, immediate action on the economy, we need strong, immediate action on immigration and we certainly need to regain the right for our own government to make the regulations and the laws by which we live.

I heard Gordon Brown the other day talking about ‘governing in the national interest’ and I thought ‘whose interests have they been governing in up to now?’ I am hoping, nay praying, that they, all of them, will put aside party politics, their personal ambitions and concentrate on getting us out of the mire.

Back to real life! Years ago when I had the Jubilee, I had an Italian friend called Lecia who worked for me. She made the most wonderful spaghetti bolognese and when I had friends round for a meal, Lecia would make it and I would crack on that I had.

Then, she decided to return to Italy. ‘Please leave me the recipe’ I asked, so at the final goodbye she produced an envelope, but asked me not to open it until she had gone. I was imagining buying the ingredients, the chopping, the peeling and the time she had always said it took to make it so good.

But when I opened it, the recipe read ‘chop and fry one large onion, add two tins of minced beef, one tin of chopped tomatoes and then — here’s the magic bit, Margo — two large tablespoons of Branston Pickle!’ All those years I had imagined her slaving, mincing, chopping but I’ll say this, it’s still the best spag bol I’ve ever tasted.