The article begins with a cosy insight into the Editor's way of obtaining information. He talks of knowing when an Eccleston Square official, lunching at the Herald's expense, is about to reveal something interesting. I'm a little skeptical about this because some of those people are not inexperienced in spin-doctoring and it is a fair bet that they have decided some time before lunch exactly which bean they are going to spill and when.
I wonder, though, if my friend Ron who works "on the print" might be able to help a little. I show him the bit where it says that the candid turn of conversation...
...is usually when the bill is presented on a silver salver with mints rolling round it like marbles.Seeing this, Ron knowingly smiles, shakes his head, and says "That's 'is problem". I ask him to explain:
Well Father, the thing is, with these fancy-pants types up at Eccleston Square, you don't want to be taking them to the sort of restaurant where they gives you the bill on a coin tray from the pound shop and then bung on a handful of mint imperials to make it look posh. No, with these blokes, you have to go to one of those places where they give you fourteen inch square plates and, whatever you order, it comes in a two and a half inch cylinder with red gravy zig-zagged over it and a couple of dried plants on the side.Disclaimer: This article contains a certain amount of fiction. The best response is to treat it as harmless fun.