William Hague's strange troubles reminded me of the misunderstanding that arose when, in the days we were both national officials of the NUJ, Jake Ecclestone and I told our Norwich hotel that we wished to share a room.


The idea was to save the union money.  There was no improper relationship between us.  (Actually there was no relationship between us, proper or improper.  We disliked each other, and still do.)

The hotel was so sorry, it didn't have a twin-bedded room, but it could offer us rooms next door to each other.  The receptionist leaned forward confidentially and said: "It's all right - there's an interconnecting door."

It's a pretty sorry state of affairs when the Foreign Secretary has to deny a homosexual relationship just because he shared a twin-bedded hotel room with a man, and to tell the world of his wife's miscarriages, apparently to reassure us all that he does have sex with her. What a horrible, prurient lot our newspapers have become.

He may have to resign, said the BBC's political correspondent this morning.  Yet he doesn't have to resign over lying about Lord Ashcroft.  A strange world we live in.