Tabloid hacking scandal exposes Britain’s very own golden circle

I HAVE only met Rebekah Brooks once, in the proper sense. We have fleetingly shaken hands a couple of times at News International receptions at party conferences in Britain which I have blagged my way into as she has glided on to schmooze important political personalities — but that scarcely counts.

I’m sure she wouldn’t know me from Adam. She, on the other hand, is hard to forget with that huge mop of curly flame-coloured hair.

The lunch party where we chatted was at a mutual friend’s home in London. She was Rebekah Wade then, the editor of The Sun, a striking woman in a man’s world. Now, it would be very convenient if I could write that I knew from the very instant we were introduced that she was a witch (or something like that), that I could pick up some malicious vibe that emanated from deep within her. The truth is, I haven’t the faintest idea what we discussed: social small talk, I guess, nothing important. It was a boozy kind of a lunch on a glorious summer’s day.