The day in 2004 when the radiologist told me I had invasive cancer I walked down the hospital corridor looking for a phone to call my husband and I could almost see the fear coming toward me like a big black shadow.

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In the past I used to counter any such notions by asking myself: 'Would you really want President Hattersley?' I now find that possibility rather cheers me up. With his chubby Dickensian features and his knowledge of T.H. Green and other harmless leftish political classics Hattersley might not be such a bad thing after all.