Clegg in the driving seat

When I was a child I had a driving kit. It was a pretend steering wheel with which I could pretend I was driving the car, complete with hooter, and stuck to the glove box by way of a suction pad that I had to lick. My dad would smile at me as he drove along, holding his wheel, while his feet were doing things I couldn’t see while I giggled and gurgled as I turned my bright red wheel left then right, willy nilly, and honked the squeaky yellow horn. For some reason this memory has come to mind while I read of Nick Clegg and Danny Alexander at their conference at the women’s institute hall in Brighton. They pretend they are sharing the driving with the Tories – all these alpha male policies to hunt down the wealthy’s tax. All these extra jobs promised at the HMRC while at the same time admitting they haven’t quite persuaded the government to pursue the rich with a mansion tax.