'That's The Placeholder in,' he said. 'What are we doing in our year off?'

From the diary of Carrie Johnson, Britain’s best-loved First Lady

IT’S quite the thing for power couples like Big Dog and I to take a sabbatical. So, after three bloody hard years, we’re having a break from Downing Street. 

He’s put a locum in while we recharge our batteries. ‘Will she be able to manage it?’ I said. ‘Fuck no,’ he said. ‘She’ll be a total fucking disaster. Even the Mail will be baying for her head after ten months. I’ve put it on their calendar.

‘Then I come triumphantly back, humbled, willing to serve, and I’m re-elected for a triumphant second term.’ ‘What about the energy crisis?’ I said. ‘It can piss off,’ he replied.

So not every detail of the plan is down. But we need this. We need the rest, we need the break from media scrutiny, we need to give time to our marriage, and more importantly we need the fucking cash.

He’s in talks with the Telegraph, and they’re not getting him for a bargain £275k a year this time. We need real money. There’s also his memoir, which predictably he’s on at me to ghostwrite while he lies on his arse.

‘You were there,’ he said, swigging another of Nadine’s bottles of Pinot. She’d stashed them all over the house. We found 34 and that’s not all. ‘You remember what happened. I’m no good with dates and names and objective facts.

‘So you do the first draft and I’ll come in afterwards, sprinkle a bit of the Boris magic, spice it up, really get stuck into my grudges against Rishi and Gove and that wanker Zahawi, summer bestseller, shitloads of royalties. What’s the problem?’

‘The problem is that it’s my time to shine,’ I explained. ‘To surf the waves of Carrie fever the nation is awash in. To launch my lifestyle brand, do my Vogue cover, all that Michelle Obama shit.’

‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘Well, we’ve got a year. We can do both. But first, Rupert’s invited us to his ranch in Australia for a month.’ ‘Ah,’ I said. ‘Free at last.’

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Five retrospectively deniable ways to hint you're up for sex

IT’S regrettable and you should really be more mature, but sometimes there’s no denying it: you want sex. 

But instead of being honest, risking rejection and a year-long sulk, drop hints. The kind of hints you can turn around and deny were a sexual advance if they don’t meet with an overjoyed reaction. Use these invitations to a porking:

‘That really is a banana in my pocket’

Trying to tell your girlfriend that you’re in the mood by subtly ramming your erect cock into their back while cupping their tits when they’re just trying to reach the Marmite? Be sure to pop a banana into your pocket.

That way, when they snap ‘fuck off, do I look like I’m in the fucking mood, why don’t you help with the dinner for once, you lazy fuck?’ you can explain that they’ve got it all wrong, that’s an actual banana. Because of all the helpful fruit shopping you do. Try to avoid grinding overripe bananas until they burst, or it’ll look like you’ve gone off in your pants again.

‘This is a very sensual novel’ 

When your husband arrives in the bedroom, 40 minutes after he said ‘I’ll be right up’, to find you sprawled naked with candlelight glinting off a bottle of lube, be sure to have a book at hand.

Then, if he starts banging on about his morning meeting or hitting the gym too hard or he’s a little bit too pissed, feign astonishment. ‘Sex? Who wants sex? This is a very sensual book, that’s all,’ you can say, holding up a hardback of Fire and Blood, ‘now stop distracting me from the dragons.’ Check it’s the right way up before pretending to read.

‘I’m Marie Kondo-ing these split-crotch panties’ 

Being caught in crotchless knickers is a sign you’re up for a fuck that’s hard to back down from, unless you’re really behind on the washing. Why would you want your fanny out if you don’t want anything up it?

Because you’re doing a clearout, that’s why, and you were just seeing if these lacy panties and chain suspender belt sparked joy before popping them in the Sue Ryder bag. So piss off. Though hopefully he’ll take the hint and do you from behind.

‘I’m genuinely very dirty’

Sending a flirty text or whispering how dirty you’re feeling is a bold, forthright way to initiate a good hard fuck – unless she’s not in the mood and replies ‘did you call about mortgage??’

But you haven’t put yourself out there and been turned down flat. You were in fact saying that you’re physically dirty because it’s been a really sweaty day and the Starbucks you were working in ran out of loo roll. You were saying that you are measurably filthy. Giving you a great reason to nip off for a wank in the shower.

‘I’m just doing a sex toy inventory’ 

The reason there’s a selection of sex toys laid out on the bed? ‘No need to mutter about fungal infections, darling, I’m just doing a pre-Christmas inventory so I can update my Amazon wish list. Furry handcuffs check, anal beads check, vibrating love eggs look like the battery’s leaked. I’ll throw those out.’

Gets you out of it without any suspicion whatsoever. Then wait until he’s snoring and sneak off to the front room with the Hitachi wand to enjoy some Vikings: Valhalla.