I had arranged to meet William Hague in The Donkey and Buskins, a small pub’ in the back streets of Rotherham, West Yorkshire. I decided to have a pleasant pint of Upnorth’s Old Bowel Loosener while I waited for him to arrive. I had just taken my first mouthful when the landlord informed me that he had refused to serve my interviewee about an hour previously and recommended I try The Unemployed Miner about a half mile away.

After a pint of XXXXXX Vomiter there, I was directed to another four establishments in turn.

When I at last caught up with him, lying on a bench in the parish church graveyard he seemed to have forgotten completely about our appointment as he told me to go away in rather strong language. But after I had bought him some tins of Special Brew from a nearby Off-licence he began to open out to me. “’En I firsht lef’ shchool I worked fer bloody Upnorth’sh Brury ont’ drays” he sprayed between gulps, “We ‘ad t’sup shisteen jarsh a shif’ an’ t’bloody ******* gi’ ush shack”. He went on to tell me that he had never worked since and that it was all Upnorth’s fault.

“Oh shut up, you boring old fart” I interrupted and went home.