With just days to go before the election, local candidates’ leaflets have been dropping through letterboxes across the country. And where I live in Kentish Town, it has been no different. Apart from, maybe, that our local MP Sir Keir Starmer could be the country’s next prime minister and I can see his house from mine.
It has been quite lively round here recently; what with a noisy week-long protest at the station over the Gaza conflict and piles of children’s shoes placed outside the Labour leader’s house (to remind him of the thousands that have been killed). I regularly spot his security cavalcade if I am up early, whisking Sir Keir off to press the flesh on the campaign trail.
But what most surprised me when I saw the Labour leaflet was the picture of Sir Keir with his wife, Lady Starmer. Or Vic, as she is better known by the Kentish Town mum mafia (who reckon she is “cool”, “a laugh”, “down to earth” and “one of us”).
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