I turned around to find myself dazzled by what seemed like a thousand suns but was in fact a TV crew in action, and there, looming up at me with outstretched hand, silhouetted against the light, silver hair aglow, was Hawkey. “Prime Minister,” I gasped, “I’m absolutely – flabbergasted to meet you!”

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so wretched and forlorn in my life.  I wept, I blubbered, I swore I’d obey any conditions they imposed if only they’d let me on.  But no, here came someone with my bags, further driving home the nightmarish reality that they really were going to leave me sitting here alone with my luggage in this vast darkening edifice, while the blessed sailed off without me.