While his country’s football players took on England at the Stade de France, Nicolas Sarkozy dined in the grand surroundings of St George’s Hall, Windsor Castle.

The President of France had been warned to observe royal protocol at the state banquet, hosted by the Queen.

At risk of triggering an international incident, he was told not to mention the name of the UK’s previous Prime Minister in the presence of Gordon Brown, who sits nearby, close to the President’s glamorous bride, Carla. Alex Murphy, of The Times, managed to bug the banquet and is able to provide a transcript of the conversation . . .

At 8.34pm a footman sidles up to Brown and hands him a note with the latest news from the Stade de France

Brown Ah see ye’ve scored, Monsewer President.

Sarkozy Of course! There is not many men of my age with the supermodel wife, Prime Minister. Did I tell you she is several years younger than myself? And that she was a model?

Brown No, ye’ve scored in Paris.

Sarkozy Why of course! In the Elysée Palace and her little flat, the cloakroom at Maxim’s and . . .

Brown No, monsewer, in the match. Ribéry has scored a pen. It’s 1-0.

Sarkozy Allez les Bleus!

Brown Wha’s Blair got tee dee wi’ anything?

Sarkozy You misunderstand me, Prime Minister . . .

Brown Let me tell ye, yon English streak o’pish wiz nivver a pal o’ yourn, Frenchie. He’d dee ye ower furra mickle muckle o’ smash, ye ken me, pal?

Sarkozy I am thinking, Monsieur, you have had one glass too many of this excellent vintage.

At 9.55pm, the footman returns and hands Brown another note

Brown Final score. 1-0 to France.

Sarkozy But only 1-0! Sacré bleu!

Brown (leaping to his feet): Will ye no learn? I’ll no’ have that man’s name spoken. We’ll take this outside in the close and sort it oot between us selves. Just you, me, and a coupla dozen private protection officers wi’ guns.

Sarkozy This is all my fault. I apologise from the bottom of my heart.

Brown Well, that’s OK, then, Nicolas. Hey, you’re no’ all that bad. Have a nip wi’ me, pal, no hard feelings.

Brown hands the President a flask containing his tipple of choice — Bénédictine and Irn-Bru

Sarkozy Bleeeuuuggghhh!

Brown Now ye’re jus’ taking the pish.

After strenuous diplomatic efforts the entente cordiale is restored, and Brown and Sarkozy chat over coffee and petits fours

Sarkozy France win, Prime Minister. We have the best team in Europe, no?

Brown As your Monsieur Wenger says, everyone thinks they have the prettiest wife at home.

Sarkozy Yes, but I really have. Did I tell you she was a model?

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