This letter has been brought to our attension:
Dear Prudence,
Its eleven years since our partnership become public. The number of times you have appeared in the Commons is irrelevant. The fact is, dear Prudence, is that everyone from the far north of that most beautiful, idyllic, majestic land of my birth and home of my forefathers, Scotland, to the furthest south of this place, knows of my dependence on you for careful financial management, never taking economic risks for political gain, and fo an even handed approach to the economy; what I give with one hand I take an even amount with the other. That’s just a joke dear Prudence, a vain attempt to make light of what I must say.
You see dear Prudence, it has reached the stage where our relationship must end. You have served me well and, I believe, I have served you too. You have entered the lexicon of the great and the good vocabulary, forever for us to be associated together.
But now in this, my final address to the Commons and the Nation, Prudence dearest will have to be left alone. I know you must wonder, what you have done wrong. I cannot face the answer to that, as I realise the depth of this betrayal. But, dear Prudence, remember: When my ambition, no our ambition, is realised, in just a few short months, when that dreadful little man next door has gone, you shall return. You will be vindicated. Never again, will a Chancellor have to prostrate himself before his peers and the Nation in a vain attempt to gain popularity without you at his, and indeed my, side.
Be patient, dear Prudence, for I understand how painful this vicious tax cut must be for you, but when we return together the country will tremble under our joint onslaught.
So, dear Prudence, remember, you always will be, and always have been at my side.
Gordon.
