I’ve come home to a country I don’t know

I come back from holiday — nothing fancy, no yachts or villas, just camping in France — to a rich guy with mad hair who seems to think he is in charge, having been elected by nobody beyond a few thousand people in his own party. He plans to visit an old lady, also unelected (and who has a thing for corgis and jewelled head gear) to ask her to shut down parliament. I should mention I live in the UK, not some distant banana republic.

I come back from holiday hoarse from screaming ‘How much’? as a single scoop of South of France sorbet now costs the sterling equivalent of a small car, and wonder if this is what they mean about taking back control. Who are ‘they’? A handful of rich tax evaders, grabbing and grabbing and grabbing. Grabbing the UK by the parliamentary pussy, whether it consents or not.