‘I BEG your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden’.

Those of us who have been married know that the hostilities usually begin after a respectable time following the ceremony.

Having said, that I did know one couple that separated before the buffet ran out.

Marriage draws out innumerable, irretrievable differences and it often happens that one partner goes off or strangles the other.

In politics they fight, scratch each other’s eyes out then, as if by magic, fall in love and get wed.

So what is it with Nick and David?

Despite years of bane they appear to have kissed and made up and got married in a civil service in the Rose Garden behind number 10 Cringe Street. Anybody who is anybody in the media was in attendance except one. Me!

With a lot of coupling nowadays comes baggage, especially, children, and our newly weds have lots of brats who will have to try to play nicely together.

What will happen if suddenly one takes a poke at another? Will he or she have to sit on the naughty step? And what will daddy David do if one of them goes really off the rails? I can guess, he’ll get transport and the already complicated rail system will get even worse.

You know what kids are like with train sets.

I call them kids because they appear to me like policemen who appear younger than ever.

The police will be under the guidance of Theresa May who will play at being Home Secretary.

She has promised not to cut our police. Cutting police is very serious so Theresa, keep well away from them, unless you want to feel the wrath of a truncheon.

To be fair to Theresa it appears she was one of the honest ones when it came to expenses. At least she won’t have to stand before the beak and defend herself, which is no bad thing as I suspect a Home Secretary outranks a beak anyway.

I quite like Vince Cable and Ken Clarke who I fear suffer from ageism.

Old men can’t keep up with the kids running up and down the corridors of power but nevertheless will make very good babysitters.

Vince’s name suggests he should be in charge of communications but instead he gets to play with one of the best toys in the box. Oh what fun he will have with ‘business and banking’.

I hope he makes them play Monopoly, wins our money back and condemns the bankers to live in the Old Kent Road and Whitechapel instead of lording it up on Bond Street, Park Lane and Mayfair.

Maybe Ken will end up with the waterworks. Men of a certain age often do.

Whatever we think, we could be stuck with them for five years so for all of our sakes let’s hope they can play together nicely without squabbling and shouting.

It is the kids who play together in deathly silence that frighten me.

They quietly take the wheels off a car and fix it to a tractor, the arm from a doll and sew it on to a teddy bear or they might play cowboys and indians and scalp each other.

As a youngster my favourite game was doctors and nurses with friendly Fiona. She just loved my stethoscope.