My spare thoughts each day are for my blog. Today they are totally devoted to what I am going to wear for the Spectator Summer Party tonight.

I will confess, this is the second event this week. The other was on a rooftop in Mayfair at a cosy climate change fundraiser. George (Osborne) spoke in front of a Brazilian band and I tasted a sea breeze for the first time.

The very small rooftop was full of Nancy Dell’ Olio, Tamara Beckwith and the Ground Force team.

I found it quite surreal. I imagine tonight’s party will be even more so.

It’s interesting how celebrities see a rising political party as a way to enhance their own profile. We saw it happen in ’97 with New Labour and the whole Cool Britannia schmoozathon.

It’s happening with the Conservative party, only there is a difference.

In ’97 New Labour actively sought the endorsement of celebrities. In ’09 celebrities seek the endorsement of the Conservative party. They want to be associated with us and ‘to help’.

The nice thing about David and George, is that it does all seem to run off them like water off a ducks back. They aren’t star struck in the way Blair, Campbell and Mandelsson appeared to be.

Some of the celebrities I have spoken to are full of enthusiasm, however, have zero knowledge of politics. Not that that’s a bad thing, however,  when one asked me the other night “do you work from home?”, I have to say, I was stuck for a reply.

“Not usually”, I answered and did that things celebrities do best; I scanned the room for someone slightly more enlightened to speak to, who was obviously far better dressed than I!

Last night I had supper with the Conservative Party equivalent of a 'press Baron'.

On my way to collect him from Central Lobby, I noticed that once again, the dis-affected Labour group had gathered around a table.

Hazel Blears, Caroline Flint, Siobhan McDonough, Jackie Smith and all the others who have nowhere to go and nothing to do, for now.

You know the rule, more than two MPs gathered together in one place and it’s a plot. Only, it didn't look much like a plot. They were all obviously just friends having a good time out together. It was more like they've just given up - for now anyway - as though they were waiting for something to happen.

Now, what could that something be?

Two votes last night, missed the 23.11 West Hampstead to Harlington train literally by 2 seconds. My hand reached out for the button as the doors slid shut in my face. I then had to wait for the 23.26.

I had to leave the house at 6 this morning and didn't get home until after 1, so those extra 15 minutes really matter!

The train was packed and there was only one seat available, no one had taken it and lots of people were standing.

I sat down and immediately noticed why he seat was free.

A young lady was sat on the seat opposite. In her mid 20's, long dark hair, glasses, mildly attractive and smartly dressed. Her shoes and handbag were made of good quality leather. Blood was dripping onto her emerald green satin blouse from a badly grazed chin and face.

She was talking to someone who wasn't there, in the air just above her. Blood plopped onto her hand and she looked confused, as though she couldn't work out where it was coming from, she lifted her head to look at me. Her eyes asked me 'did you do that?’. I noticed she was wearing a wedding ring. She was roughly the same age as my daughter and belonged to someone and somewhere.

I immediately wondered if she knew where to get off. She wasn't looking at the signs out of the window and appeared to be unaware when the train stopped.

I look over at a lady sat to my left; mid-sixties, glasses, reading intensely, sensible sandals, mid-calf summer skirt and buttoned up blouse.  She is older than me, surely wiser? Should I follow her lead, keep reading and ignore the bleeding young woman? She looks at me and mildly tut tuts. I can bear it no more. I decide to dive in. 

I lean over and touch the un-bloodied hand. "Are you ok?" I ask. "Where are you going? Do you know where to get off?" She started to cry. I could make no sense of her words and even worse, I had no tissues for either the blood or the tears which were mingling together nicely, no tissues? What kind of mother am I? That question sounded strangely familiar.  I wanted to look in the good quality handbag and see if she had a phone. Maybe the someone she belonged to was looking for her? 

Aware I could be accused of mugging, I carried on talking to her and she began to calm a little. I had initially thought she was very drunk, however, she was mildly hallucinating, her pupils were much dilated and as I felt her pulse whilst I held her hand I realised it was racing. This was more than a girl from the office who had had too much to drink.

Suddenly, the older and wiser lady leaned over and offered some tissues and we helped the young lady to dab the steady flow of blood from her hands and chin. The man sat next to me, who had feigned sleep so well he deserves an Oscar, asked if he could help.

I eventually found out her stop (train ticket very useful) and that her husband was meeting her and made sure she got off the train. Later, as I collapsed into bed, I was so grateful I missed the earlier train. She could have been anyone’s daughter or wife.

But what is it about we English; that when faced with something out of the ordinary, something which we may not have encountered before or be confident to take on, we look deeper into our books, searching for words, or worse, close our eyes even tighter.

My local paper carried a lovely story this Sunday about baby Jessica, who was born at 23 weeks gestation

http://www.bedsonsunday.com/bedsonsunday/DisplayArticle.asp?ID=428915

As I said in the comment, just when you think you are about to give up, along comes a baby like Jessica who makes you realise it’s worth it.

Of course, Jessica was a poorly baby when she was delivered at 23 weeks. Babies aborted for social reasons are healthy babies and would stand an even better chance of survival than Jessica did.

I am much amused by the shock horror reaction regarding the publishing of the pay and expenses of BBC executives.

It’s about the same level of reaction we would expect if the salaries of the clerks and staff working in the House of Commons were published in one hit.

What everyone wants to see is the pay and expenses of all of the presenters. TV and Radio.  I would imagine the reaction and the outcry from the public would then be similar as it was with MPs.

For a generation, both broadcast and written media have failed to produce or say almost anything positive regarding Michael Jackson.

For years he has been written about as a child abuser, a recluse, a whacko and just about any other unpleasant adjective any journalist could muster up.

Scrolling through recent archives, it’s almost impossible to find anything written about his creativity, his musical genius or the tough and unusual life he had when growing up as a little boy.

The hypocrisy on the Radio and TV is very difficult to watch and listen to over the last couple of days as one journalist after another scrambles around to find gushing words to describe an extinguished life, words which have been elusive for so long.

My Michael memory is of my friend Rita and me, walking to school with a transistor radio listening to this which had just become No1.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfJu_Bom2sA

or losing myself on the dance floor to this

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BKXRaylP_ng

I wasn’t a Michael fan, but for years I have been uncomfortable with the way he was torn apart by the media.

Why would any young person want to aspire to be anyone or anything, if arriving means having your creativity overlooked, in favour of every aspect of your life which has nothing to do with your work, becoming journalist fodder?

The reason why my name does not appear in the list of re payments today is down to my angel, Pippa.

When Pippa came to work for me shortly after I became an MP the first thing she did was obtain a copy of the Green Book. I didn’t even know it existed.

The second thing she did was instruct me that I was to provide her with every receipt incurred as part of my job. She also decided we would not draw the £250 per month petty cash but order what we needed when we needed via the stationary order.

The Green book has lived on her desk ever since.

I never wanted to say this publicly before in case there was something wrong that I was un aware of and I didn’t want her to be exposed,  however, the truth is that I have never submitted a single claim for for my expenses, I don’t even see them, Pippa has done the lot. There isn’t much Pippa doesn’t know about my office or personal finances so ‘on top’ of everything is she.

Pippa is hyper cautious. She does have one flaw though, biscuits.

When I told her yesterday that the tea towels she had bought for the office tea tray and the posh chocolate biscuits had been listed in the Daily Mail, she retorted “well, you don’t expect me to eat family circle under this kind of pressure do you”?

No, I don’t because she has been bang on in her judgment and the way she has handled our office accounts.

The scrutiny committee was very tough and very professional in the way it conducted its enquiry. We had to submit all accounts, receipts, invoices etc a good while ago in response to the questions they raised. These were obviously checked out or whatever because the next thing that happened was that out of the blue you received a phone call instructing you to go to the Chiefs office, and there you were grilled. You were given no notice that you were to be called.

They had all the invoices out in front of them which had obviously been checked out because there was a list of notes next to them.

Tough call, not the nicest experience but I’m glad David Cameron did it.

It’s a good feeling today because I think it is the first step to putting things right, repairing the system and moving upwards.

My fawning admiration for Fraser Nelson is no secret. I just wish the man was a candidate and applying for one of our newly vacant seats!

However, as a journalist said when I made the same comment at a lunch recently, "what, and earn the money you earn, you must be joking!"

Fraser has written his own take here in the Spectator

on the Labour Party’s decision to hoist John Bercow into the Speaker’s chair.

It actually makes very depressing reading. However, it does highlight the vindictive nature of the out going Labour MPs.

The job of men like Fraser, is to ensure the public are fully aware of the cynicism and low regard in which Labour MPs hold the British people; and then, to let them know again.

On the night of the vote for Speaker, the majority of us crowded out onto the Terrace whilst the votes were being counted.

A Labour PPC came up to me and he was the happiest I have seen him in a very long time. Standing next to him was a female Labour Minister.

He explained that the reason that he was so happy was because it was the job of the Labour party to ‘stick it’ to the Tories; and that they were about to ‘stick it’ to us good and proper.

I told him it was a shame that he felt it was more about ‘sticking it’ to the Tories than getting it right for Parliament and the people. That surely in these desperate times it should be about more than party politics and above the usual game playing?

He laughed into his pint.

"You do know the media will murder you for this don’t you?" said I. "One hint that this was about MPs, Westminster and game playing with no regard for the nation, democracy, restoring faith, honour and honesty within Parliament – which belongs to the people, NOT us - and they will come after you."

"What does she mean?" said the Labour Minister looking up to him with furrowed brows.

I groaned inside. Over to you Fraser. 

This message is only of interest to the village of Lidlington.

We have a new water feed into the back of the village!

Should the water main be damaged again by the contractors, all will be well.

New permanent water mains switched on next Tuesday/Wednesday and, most importantly, will not be under the main Rd

Anglia Water are going to contribute something to the village and are in discussions with the Parish Council.

Alls well that ends well. No more 7am messages on my answerphone from residents unable to have a shower, phew!

Back into the chamber now for the Iraq debate. Iain Duncan Smith has just given a  tub thumper of a speech.

On the Today programme this morning, Nick Robinson said I was wrong about Bercow only having three votes, he reckons he may know of a fourth.

I bet we will never know who it was J

I just hoped that for once Westminster could have stopped playing party politics and thought about what was best for the people who had elected us.

We will all have to get on and hope that Labour was right. That this is the best thing for Parliament, reform and democracy. That Labour and the Liberal Democrats knew best.

I have an article in The Mail On Sunday outlining the reasons why I do not believe that John Bercow should be Speaker.

When I was asked to write this, I consulted colleagues within the party, from the top to the bottom.

Some who have sadly decided to walk away and others who are charging to push reform from the front. I deliberately sought opinion from those held in the highest regard, even today.

Every single colleague, without exception both urged and encouraged me to meet the request, indeed, even gave me more information than I could incorporate into an article.

http://www.mailonsunday.co.uk/debate/article-1194464/NADINE-DORRIES-Bercow-oily-opportunist-lacking-loyalty-courage--I-speak-Tory.html

Today, Ben Rogers on ConservativeHome, http://conservativehome.blogs.com/centreright/2009/06/john-bercow-the-man-another-side-of-the-story.html#more

has put across an alternative view, however, I am aftraid that it in no way answers the question as to why John should be Speaker.

I assume that Ben’s article, posted today, had more to do with making the case for John to be Speaker than simply to be rude about me?

As well as outlining the number of trips to Burma John has undertaken, maybe Ben could have explained why he thought it would be right to have a Speaker that only half of the House can support at a time of such need for Parliament to be united? A Speaker with absolutely no Conservative support.

If John Bercow is elected Speaker tomorrow, then Parliament is lost.

The fact that such a travesty could take place in the face of such public anger will in itself demonstrate that MPs have learnt absolutely nothing and still feel that tribal politics is more important than democracy.

I have supported Anne Widdecombe; however, it is of no concern to me which party the Speaker comes from. The Speaker must be above party politics, be strong, principled and brave. Have the ability to command respect, display authority and drive through reform.

That person is not Bercow, who if elected will breed resentment, deepen division and polarise the chamber.

Tomorrow is a big day in terms of whether or not we can begin to restore our reputation.

If Labour vote in Bercow, then all that will be lost as the media will once again tear both Parliament and most especially Labour MPs apart.

We simply cannot allow this to happen.

I'm only typing this because I feel I have to rebut the lies. A local newspaper has apparently written that I have claimed for a vest top and a pair of shorts with six bottles of wine from Tesco.

No I have not, and even if I had tried, it would have been sent back from the fees office. I may have claimed for something that was on the same receipt, but not those items, because they are personal and nothing to do with my job. And anyway, don't you think that the Telegraph may have noticed that?

The information contained within the black stuff on my expenses is I believe, the following;

My bank account details and credit card numbers.

My telephone numbers

My address

The addresses of suppliers who have retained the right to their own privacy and do not want to be identified as suppliers.

On Wednesday night I arrived back in the constituency to find the furniture on my patio broken to bits. I then received a blog comment which I didn’t post but which read ‘nice patio Nadine, or was’.

I have never claimed for furniture or gardening or petty cash or anything other than expenses incurred as part of my role as an MP. In fact, to date, I have spent almost £2000 of my own money this year entertaining constituents in the House of Commons. As a single mum with a number of dependents and responsibilities, that is money I have struggled to afford.

I didn’t claim for my patio furniture either. It was a present from my mum.

I have requested my un-redacted expenses from the fees office and will make them available to my local press to do with as they wish when they get to me.

Thank goodness my daughter stayed at a friends that night and when I got into the back door, both of the dogs were huddled shivering wrecks. Fat use they are!

The media know that 99.9% of the information contained in the black boxes is information every human being has a right to keep private.

I have requested my un-redacted expenses from the fees office and will make them available to my local press to scrutinise when they get to me.

I am switching off my comment feed until Monday.

I went into the chamber to say goodbye to the Speaker and to catch the last few tributes. Some  were very moving indeed.

John Bercow rose to speak however, the speaker left him until almost the last. Bercow spoke about the prejudice the snobbish media had shown towards the Speaker since he had been elected.

I thought about some very strong words I had with Bercow in the dining room not that long ago.

I accused him of being elitist and told him that the way he corrected people’s grammar, from under his breath,  whilst they were on their feet and talking in the chamber was appallingly snobbish and incredibly off putting. A number of us had noted it. He mainly does it to Conservative MPs from his sedentary position. When Labour MPs stand, he nods his head furiously and heaps muttered praise upon them.

Greasing the wheels I think it’s called.

Once when I wrote about this on my blog, he went into the whips office to complain about me. I was told to modify my blog.

As if.

I sat behind his left shoulder today. I may be there for some time.