Boris and David Cameron are supposed to be on good terms at the moment – the Prime Minister even told the Today programme that Boris should “absolutely” be an MP again. After the speech, a mob of journalists – or, if you prefer, a ginormous convocation of worms – followed Boris round the exhibition hall, asking him whether he agreed. He didn’t seem desperately keen to answer.

Would he look for a seat in 2015? “There’s been no change in what I’ve said in the last five years, and I’ll continue to say it until I’m blue in the face and blue in every other portion of my anatomy!” What seat would he like? “It’s got a kind of spongy bottom, and it swivels, and it’s to be discovered in the office of City Hall!” Was he going to keep fudging the question? “Yes.”

Around the hall, little old ladies looked up from their tea, waved excitedly and trilled, “Ooh, hello, Boris!” Others pointed admiringly at his hair, which more than ever resembled an upturned colander of spaghetti. Goodness knows how he gets it looking so messy. It must take hours of preparation.

Fortunately for the convocation of worms, when Boris is in what Bridget Jones calls “full autowitter” he generally blurts out a gobbet of truth sooner or later. “My leadership chances, as I may have told you before, are about as good as my chances of being reincarnated as a baked bean. Which are probably quite high, actually…”

What did it all mean? Was Boris really plotting a Westminster comeback? Or had he privately concluded that Mayor is the job that suits him best: maximum publicity, minimum pain? Does anyone know? Does Boris?

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