We leave Lord Bonkers where we found him: self-isolating at Bonkers Hall. Unless the Wise Woman of Wing comes up with a cure for coronavirus, he will still be in that condition when we next meet him
St Asquith’s is closed for the first time since the death of Mr Gladstone, so I decide to worship Nature instead. I walk in the woods above Rutland Water, gazing out at my oil wells and a familiar wake that betokens the presence of my old friend the Rutland Water Monster. Here, beneath the oak and the beech and the ash and the elm, spring flowers soak up the strengthening sun; in the branches overhead, the painted birds sing.
The mood is rather spoilt when the Bird of Liberty runs past making what can only be described as obscene signs – in my book the case for a new party logo is overwhelming. Couldn’t we have a panda? They seem much less trouble, passing their days eating bamboo shoots and not having sex.
Then, in a heart-stopping moment, I make out a Rutland gazelle standing poised for flight in the deepest recess of the woods. It carries a worried expression but springs off with the most remarkable grace when it catches sight of me.
Lord Bonkers was Liberal MP for Rutland South West, 1906-10.
Previously in Lord Bonkers' Diary