"You can’t keep coming here Michael.” A small knock at the door had awoke Ed Miliband from his gentle slumber, and upon finding Michael Gove once again at his front door, he saw no other option but to let him in. The man seemed tiny in the dim half-light cast by the lamp in the street. He wasn’t quite shivering yet, but his arms were wrapped ( Read more... )

“So as I was saying…about the graduate tax…” Ed had been sat on Alan’s desk for some time, discussing policies with the older man whilst rapidly flicking his pen between his middle and forefinger, a habit he had adapted back in college and which seemed to always rear its head when he was talking about something he was passionate about. Only, this ( Read more... )