Read David Cameron's speech notes

It was the speech of his life and he walked it. Literally. I do hope that David Cameron was wearing a pedometer as he paced the stage for a marathon 67 minutes with only six tiny glances at his cribsheet. Towards the end, he mopped his brow and gulped the last drop of water. When it was over, he told his wife: “I’m knackered.” I could see why. The pedometer does not lie.

He strode on stage like a rock star to the pounding music of his favourite band, The Killers. He had the intense calm of a man who knows that the stakes are high (or was on Valium). But he had raised those stakes even higher when he decided that he would give the speech of his life while going walkies. Why? This was speech-making as extreme sport, the political equivalent of tombstoning. Perhaps it will be called Camerooning.

He looked a bit unsure at the start and his voice was slightly hoarse. “I haven’t got a script, just a few notes,” he noted with a shrug that had probably been practised dozens of times but looked no less casual for it. “It might be a bit messy but it will be me.” Well, it wasn’t messy but it was at least 200 steps too long. It was his “What I Believe” speech, his response to those who say he has no substance. His only prop was an Ikea bar table which held his notes, his watch, and two glasses of water. The table acted as a base camp. The backdrop was of treetops and sky and, at times, he looked as if he was walking in the air: a considerably slimmer Snowman in an ultra smart suit.

Why did he do it? Partly, I suspect, because he could and Gordon Brown cannot. Well, Gordon could try but he would probably look like a bear foraging for food. The speech was also notably youthful in tone. There was even a “pissed” moment. This came when Dave told the story of how a schoolboy had told him that he had got “completely pissed” the night before his exam. The Tory faithful tried not to blanche or think too deeply about how easily that word tripped off their leader’s tongue.

He had lots of themes (too many) but his most effective was family, both politically and personally. “We can be the party of the family once again,” he cried to instant applause. He was at his most emotional when talking of the people in the NHS who help to care for his disabled son. He also claimed that he wasn’t embarrassed to go to Eton. Indeed we should all be grateful because now he wants all schools to be as good as Eton.

By the end, I was getting knackered just watching Dave walk round his cafe table. Then, finally, he walked towards the front and switched into election mode. “Get out and fight for what we believe in!” he urged, his audience leaning towards him. “Say to people: it doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to put up with this. You can get it if you really want it.”

He walked further forward (base camp now dangerously far away). This was, actually, the make-or-break moment. His voice went all gravelly. “So Mr Brown, what’s it going to be?” he cried. “You go ahead and call that election!” He stood, the pedometer finally finished “Call that election,” he cried, “Britain will win!” How Gordon will hate that, for he thinks Britain belongs to him.

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