We knew who had won — or thought we knew — by watching the wives. The scene was a ridiculously overcrowded room in the St Martin’s Hotel near Trafalgar Square. It is not healthy to be in an enclosed space with so many Liberal Democrats, not least because, as a party, they tend to suffer from body odour. I feared that the air-circulation system would collapse under the strain.

The announcement was late, for the Lib Dems love their leadership elections and don’t like to rush them. The room, overheating to incubator levels, was littered with photographers taking pictures of each other and broadcasters interviewing each other. In the front of the room were all the former Lib Dem leaders pretending to have intense conversations with each other.

Then, suddenly, Miriam Clegg and Vicky Huhne came in, straight from the secret room (LibDems love secret rooms) where they had been closeted with their husbands. Miriam, who is Spanish, was all smiles, her dark hair bouncing this way and that as she chatted away. Vicky, who is Greek, looked drawn as she beetled over to her chair. They bussed each other as if they’d not just been in the secret room.

“Only two kisses,” we noted ominously. For Europeans this is a paltry number. Surely, the minimum would be four in normal circumstances. But this was not normal for, as far as we could see, Miriam’s husband had beaten Vicky’s. They began to chat with the determination of women doing their duty while being filmed by eight different cameras.

They were put out of their misery by the arrival of Vince Cable, acting leader, economist and ballroom dancer supreme. He was met with thunderous applause. Everyone loves him. Indeed, they love him so much that they are replacing him with someone worse.

“You can all relax,” Vince noted drily. “I’m not intending to announce a military coup.”

This was a blow. Everyone laughed. Though maybe, inside, they were crying. “Can I just say a few words about my own very brief interlude?” he asked. No one wanted to stop him but, to be honest, I’m not sure that anyone could have. “It had some memorable moments,” he noted, “the finest being when I was for a few moments the envy of every man in Britain, dancing with the gorgeous Alesha.”

This got an instant laugh. I suspect that many in the room didn’t know who she was. At this point they would have laughed whatever Vince said. I half expected Alesha (a star from Strictly Come Dancing) to run up on stage for a final tango moment. Vince then decided, boringly, to give the result.

Nick Clegg and Chris Huhne stood to one side, looking awkward. They have been on the campaign trail for two months and are starting to resemble each other. Indeed, they walk in tandem as if they are partners in a permanent three-legged race.

“The total number of votes cast was 41,465,” Vince said. He said that Nick Clegg had received 20,988 votes. At the word “twenty”, there was an “ohhhh”. Then he said Chris Huhhne had got 20,474. This brought another gasp. No one had expected it to be so close.

Mr Huhne, irrepressible even in defeat, bounded up. “Well, there are close-run things and close-run things!” Then Mr Clegg gave a speech about how he wants a new beginning. It was rather dull. But, still, he looks good. Is that enough?

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