The last time I saw Matt Hancock was during the summer at a corporate dinner in the City when – a fussy eater at the best of times – he declined to eat anything at all because he said he was watching his figure.
It’s a measure of the hold his girlfriend Gina Coladangelo has over him that he’s now devouring camel penis, sheep vagina and cow’s anus in the I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here! jungle.
The former health secretary may well have been paid a small fortune to appear on the show, but it will assuredly cost him his political career. A dull man in private, I can’t ever really see him cutting it as a celebrity. I recall being at a drinks party at Spencer House in London talking to Neil and Christine Hamilton and Margaret Thatcher walking up and asking what they were doing. “Christine is on I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here!” Neil replied.
“What?” said Thatcher. “I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here!” Neil replied loudly. Unfamiliar with popular television shows, she gave him a withering look and walked off, saying under her breath “a celebrity, indeed.”
