To Claridges, then, to see John Reid present the Parliamentarian of the Year Awards. Yes, John Reid. Remember him? The former Home Secretary. The former Defence Secretary. The former Health Secretary. I could go on but you get the idea.

When Tony Blair needed a job done, he called on Mad Dog Reid. It was almost sweet (not a word ever associated with John Reid before) that when Tony Blair retired, he announced his too.

Anyway, the bruiser was back, at least for a lunchtime. Mr Reid looked almost dazed as he milled round in the pre-awards crush. I think he’s missed us, you know. The event, put on by The Spectator, can be seen as a barometer of the state of the Tories. In times past, attendance has been patchy. This year it was packed. The buzz was fierce, like bees in a swarm. The Pol Roger flowed as backs were slapped with almost scary optimism.

Lunch was rack of lamb and dauphinois potatoes. It’s tough at the coalface of politics. John Reid began by talking of his favourite subject. “I had a suspicion that when I was asked to do this today, some months ago, it was in the hope that I might, by now, be the holder of some much, much higher office,” he teased. “And so, it is a great pleasure to be here today as the chairman of Celtic Football Club!”

Mr Reid has put himself in a period of detention (“longer than 58 days!”) and won’t comment on Gordon Brown. So it was on to the awards. I must declare an interest here as I was one of the judges. This is what I discovered yesterday:

Nick Clegg is hopeless at acceptance speeches. The Lib-Dem poster boy won Newcomer of the Year. He appeared by video link and would not shut up. When he started to warble on about making policies accessible, I blocked out the sound and could just see him opening and closing his mouth, like a fish.

Mrs Thatcher is back in Thatcher blue. The Iron Lady was peer of the year. Her flirtation with Labour (and pinky-red dresses) is over. Appearing by video, she seemed positively regal in Thatcher blue and lustrous pearls. Her voice is a bit rough round the edges these days. She spoke a total of 33 words (Nick Clegg take note), urging us to have a “most enjoyable lunch”. Boris Johnson adored this. “Superb! Superb!” he screamed, his haystack hair flying

Alex Salmond loves the Queen. Mr Salmon, now First Minister of Scotland, won Parliamentarian of the Year. His fellow Scot Nat, Angus MacNeil said that if Scotland becomes independent, it won’t be a republic. “The Queen and Alex have met several times in the last six months and many in the SNP are saying that never have so few travelled so far for so many racing tips.”

The Rev Ian Paisley is having too much fun. The ancient mariner, surely older than the mountains, won Marathon Man of the Year. He appeared, tieless, looking positively giddy and declared: “We look forward to looking back on these days and saying, well, it was a miracle.”

George Osborne loves John Reid. The Shadow Chancellor, whose million-pound moment in Blackpool derailed the election, was Politician of the Year. “I am delighted to receive the award from John, partly because I’ve always respected him and partly because he’s the only MP who really frightens me and partly because I know how annoyed Gordon Brown will be.”

He allowed himself a small smirk. The political weather has certainly changed.

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