It has been brought to my attention that there is a large piece of doo-doo next to my neighbour’s garden gate! “Um, hello,” said my neighbour. “I’m sorry to bother you about this, Mr Blunkett, but I do think it was your dog.” Appalling! Just because I am a simple Northern lad who has never been given any advantage in life (aside from a shoo-in to a major office of state because my friend Tony thought I was feeling poorly!) people assume I’ll let Sadie doo-doo all over the place! “It was not my dog!” I retorted, angrily. “For all I know, it might as well have been your wife!”

Footnote: I realise now that this was not my finest hour. I should not have given assurances on something about which I could not possibly have known. As a result of my inability to see the expression on my neighbour’s face, I also now realise that I may inadvertently have been rude.

TUESDAY

Martin Narey, who used to be my director-general of the Prison Service, is saying some terrible things about me! He says that I was “hysterical” and that I told him to “machinegun” the prisoners during a riot! It’s an absolute lie! I would never say anything like this! I call him, to explain how angry I am.

“David,” he says. “You’re hysterical. You are over-reacting now, just like you did then.” How dare he! I tell Martin that he should be taken out, shot, buried, dug up again, resuscitated, hung, drawn, quartered, shot again, buried again, dug up again and then burnt.

Footnote: how dare he accuse me of over-reacting!

WEDNESDAY

Now that my book is out, I feel like my life is a blank slate wiped clean. Why, I almost think I’m ready to start dating again.

Actually, I have a friend who wants to set me up with a friend of his. He says we’d really get on. Apparently, we’re very similar. She has also had a difficult life, and she also grew up in the North. She does loads for charity and she’s going through a messy divorce. He says she’s very beautiful. I can’t deny I’m tempted!

Have I written about my friend before? His name is Abdul. I met him when we sat next to each other on a train, entirely by chance, and we really just clicked. He wants me to join the board of two of his companies. Some people might be suspicious at such a fastdeveloping friendship, but I’m an excellent judge of character.

Besides, he tells me he’s a sheikh!

THURSDAY

I am increasingly worried about the doo-doo on my neighbour’s step. Sadie has really let me down rather badly over this, and through no fault of my own!

I drape a handkerchief over the mouthpiece of my telephone. Half an hour later, a “Friend of David Blunkett” has told all the tabloids that Sadie has been behaving most strangely lately, and that he is very concerned that she may need to go without her dinner and be deprived of her favourite, Birkin-bag-shaped squeaky toy. Not that I would know anything about it, of course!

That should put her in her place. Failing that, I’ll just have to get the Army round to shoot her with a bazooka!

Footnote: I realise now that I may have been more upset with Sadie than I was admitting — even to myself!

FRIDAY

I’m in a glamorous Mayfair restaurant to meet Abdul’s friend. From the way Sadie’s ears prick up when she arrives, I know straight away that this is somebody special. I’ve had such poor luck with gold-diggers and publicity-seekers, but I can just tell this one is different.

“Hello!” I say, in my grandest voice. “I’m David Blunkett!” “Hello,” she says. “I’m Heather Mills McCartney.”

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