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I wonder whether it really was his decision; it seems possible that Ms Harman found that having him around was distracting her from her heavy responsibilities, or that his ridiculous face fungus gave her the creeps.
Whatever the truth of the matter, it can’t be much fun to be the son of a Prime Minister, particularly one like ours, and our good wishes must go to Euan. He has a long road to travel before he can hope to gain the level of affection and respect which the world has accorded to Mark Thatcher.
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