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Notting Hill mansions, Skripal's cat and the Fendi micro bag

"Knock, knock." "Password please." "Viva la revolution." "That's correct, you may come in."
Oh, it's only you. You should have said. The reason for such stealth practises is this reporter is currently lying low in this £25million mansion in Notting Hill.

This palatial pad was featured in The Sun, no doubt to make the reader's blood run green, as it emerges that the average home now boasts a living room a third the size of one in the 1970's in what has been dubbed "rabbit hutch living". Whilst we are struggling on with just three bedrooms compared to an average of 3.6 bedrooms in the 1980's. (This reporter asks which unfortunate child ended up saddled with the 0.6).

Back to this reporter's current abode and it really is bucking the trend. Havona House sports 8,700 square foot of luxury living space, multiple bathrooms, an ornate spiral staircase, a 70 foot swimming pool and an automated James Bond-style parking system. This reporter therefore concludes it is the ideal place for talking about today's topic of conspiracy and subterfuge because this home positively screams no ne'er do wells living here.

Down to business and this reporter has heard on the grapevine secret plans to form a new political party, which has the ambitious premise of borrowing from both the left and right of politics whilst remaining staunchly neither.

The centrist party - yet to be named - is being spearheaded by Simon Franks, the multimillionaire and founder of LoveFilm, so expect excellent trailers. Other supporters include unnamed entrepreneurs, philanthropists and former Tory donors united by a frustration at how tribal politics has become, how polarised by Brexit and how weak the leaders of both major parties currently are.

This reporter has two words for you - 'Animal Farm'*

Talking of which, this reporter's current favourite conspiracy theory has arisen out of the Salisbury spy poisoning. As it appears that Sergei Skripal and his daughter Yulia look set to make nothing short of a miraculous recovery after being attacked by nerve agent, theories have surfaced that the human Skripals were not the intended victims, but their pets.

The administering of nerve agent to the Skripal's front door handle was actually intended for the Skripal's two guinea pigs and black, fluffy cat, who it is rumoured "saw something they shouldn't have". The perils of being owned by a former spy, this reporter can only conclude.

Where the attackers - still unknown unless you talk to Boris Johnson - fell down was failing to remember that paws can't work door handles.

This would be the exact right time to drop in the latest trend, the micro bag - the absolute embodiment of fashion subterfuge. Why, you ask? Because no one, absolutely no one, can function through day-to-day life on the contents of a bag the size of a thimble.

The micro bag is the shop front for the gigantic tote bag jam-packed full of books, leaking make-up canisters and old receipts shoved in the car or under the desk at work. It says I need absolutely nothing but my debit card and an emergency Polo mint but it is nothing short of a big, fat lie.

Did this reporter fail to mention that the Skripal's actually had two cats and one managed to get away, because she thinks she just saw him scampering up the middle of the Notting Hill highway with a Fendi micro bag swinging from his tail.

*To clarify - the pigs ended up being just as corrupt as the humans

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