A bit of a later start today. Had a coffee with Duncan Brack to talk about doing another book of counterfactuals next year. All ideas welcome. Perhaps we should call it PRIME MINISTER CORBYN AND OTHER THINGS THAT WILL NEVER HAPPEN. Boom boom.

The first show of the day was at the Assembly Rooms and was called PLAYING MAGGIE. It was a one man show starring Pip Utton, a 60 year old male actor from a mining village in Staffordshire. Who was playing Maggie. Really. The fact that he looked nothing like her and sounded very little like her wasn’t really the point. He opened with a bit of a monologue and then took audience questions. The audience played along and addressed him as if he really was her. He actually improvised very well and you could acually imagine her giving some of the answers he gave. He also had some great comic timing. But Utton really needed to put more effort into the voice and her mannerisms. Studying Steve Nallon would have done him no harm at all. I never quite understood whether he was a fan or not, but it was clear that the Iron Lady had played a big part in his family’s life. His father had been a miner and blamed the closure of his pit on her, and everything else for that matter. As people do. Even now. The hour finished with the Lady’s not for turning quote, which Upton got slightly wrong, just as he did with the Where There Is Discord quote. I felt a bit awful at the end for pointing this out to him after the show but he told me my book of Margaret Thatcher quotations is his bible and is by his bedside. As it should be with everyone!

I then made my way up The Mound (and it’s a long time since that’s happened!) to see a one man show starring Simon Cartwright about Bob Monkhouse, called THE MAN CALLED MONKHOUSE. I wouldn’t say this was my highlight of the week, if I’m honest. Cartwright was quite convincing and certainly got his voice right on occasion, but there was something missing. Listening to audience members on the way out they weren’t at all impressed. Several complained that it appeared to finish 15 minutes earlier than scheduled. Others just didn’t like Cartwright’s portrayal at all. I think what was missing was a narrative. I’m not sure what we were supposed to think at the end of it, so in the end we didn’t really think anything. So all in all a bit of a disappointment.

Fred MacAulay on the other hand was the very opposite. Fred is a Scottish comedian and broadcaster. He had been presenting the mid morning programme for BBC Radio Scotland but was removed from the schedule in March after 17 years. His show at the Fringe is called HIM OFF THE RADIO, but this was anything but. Virtually none of his act could have been broadcast on the radio, but so what? This was a laugh a minute show with some hilarious tales from his career and some brilliantly funny observational stuff about his life and travels. When he started talking about the times radio broadcasters had been caught out saying the word c**t on air, I thought he might mention my famous Archbishop of Cunterbury incident, but I guess it hasn’t travelled this far north!

You know what they say about leaving the best till last? Well that’s what I did. My last show today, and indeed of my visit, was MARGARET THATCHER QUEEN OF SOHO. And it was the best, even edging Gyles Brandreth into second place. The show played in Leicester Square a few months ago but I didn’t manage to get to see it. Oh what I missed out on. This was a joy from beginning to end. A mixture of high campery, slapstick, great music and subtle political messaging, this hit all the right notes, both musically and theatrically. I’d say 90 per cent of the audience weren’t even born when Mrs T was deposed, but they seemed to get even the most obscure references to things that happened in the 1980s. The show revolves around the issue of Section 28 and even hints that Mrs T wasn’t exactly in favour of it herself. Dame Jill Knight, played by a moustachiod man was the baddie of the evening, and Mrs T even has a snog with Peter Tatchell, but it was a scene featuring the ghost of Winston Churchill which stole the show. As Kenny Everett might say, all in the best possible taste. Not. But it was very funny. It was an hour that you never wanted to end. But just as it ended, a wicked thought struck me. Wouldn’t it be fun to hire the cast to perform at the Conservative Party Conference. Watch this space, ladies and gentlemen. Coming to a stage in Manchester… Leave it to me…