Gaseous crumbs rose from the tailpipes of a police convoy. He was embarking on his last prime ministerial journey, far north to the conifers of Aberdeenshire and the Balmoral slaughterhouse, the royal hand and the ceremonial loss of office. It was not yet 7.40 in the morning. The breakfast eggs had not yet boiled, but a prime minister who won an 80-seat majority was being beheaded. After overnight downpours that had gone
