I enjoy friendly relations with the Tories, but never expect them to go over the top.

Last week I was walking into the Palace of Westminster through the main public entrance at St Stephen's, when I spied a phalanx of 40 Conservative MPs lined up on either side of it, like a guard of honour at a wedding.

All that they lacked were ceremonial swords.

"Very kind of you gentlemen to turn out for me," I said. "I really didn't know that you cared that much."

A great, if slightly ironic cheer went up, and they invited me to join them.

Only then, as I entered the building did I meet William Hague and the new Tory MP for Eddisbury, Stephen O'Brien, coming out of it, and realised why they were there, as the back-drop for a photo opportunity.

They duly obliged with a second cheer - not very much louder than the first one.

Now I know what it feels like to win a by-election without the inconvenience of having to fight it.

I followed the events in Eddisbury with relief from the relative tranquility of Tatton.

The clamour and acrimony of the campaign, in which 70 Labour MPs were thrown into the front-line in a single day, seemed oddly out of keeping with the setting and with the sunshine.

Cheshire in high summer deserved better than a political reply of the Battle of the Somme.

And yet, when the result was declared, it was like Alice in Wonderland, with prizes for everyone and all sides claiming victory.

Just a few days later I was at Tatton Park, delivering a short but flowery speech at the opening of the National Rose Show, part of the grand RHS extravaganza (a terrific success which reflected great credit on the management of the park as well as on the Royal Horticultural Society.)

I was presented with a new rose, a salmon pink floribunda bred by Gareth Fryer of Knutsford and named after Tatton.

It caused me to reflect on our good fortune in having the place associated with something as perfect and as fragrant as a rose.

Whoever heard of a rose called Eddisbury?

Something else that troubles me about election campaigns is how much they cost.

Last week the Home Secretary unveiled his proposals for the control of party funding.

The reforms will go some way towards correcting the abuses of the past - sleaze and secrecy, dubious contributions from abroad, the purchase of honours, and so much else that eroded public trust in public life.

But there is still a fault line.

Even under the new arrangements the two main parties will be able to spend £20million each at the next election - only £6 or £8m less than they spent at the last one.

That reminded me of a remark made by an American congressman: "A million here, a million there, and very soon you're talking about real money."

By anyone's standards £20m is real money - more than can be raised through the usual rituals involving wine and cheese and rubber chicken dinners.

So once again the parties will be spending more than they can safely raise.

They will be beholden to the big contributors, the Bernie Ecclestones and Michael Ashcrofts.

And then the real people - regular British taxpayers without investments in international race tracks or banana republics - will lose faith again.

I believe in the wisdom of Reg Lawrence, the chrysanthemum grower from Over Peover, that the British people have had enough of the politics of the pig trough.

How many times do we have to learn this lesson?

I raised these concerns with Mr Straw on the floor of the House.

Things have moved on since the last Parliament, although not perhaps as far as we would wish.

Events in our own constituency have had some effect in changing the political climate and I cannot believe that the Home Secretary will support a system in which policies and peerages are for sale.

Enough of the riff-raff of millionaires.

They have done too much damage already.

IT'S time to sing the praises of two remarkable primary schools.

One is Colshaw School in Wilmslow, which for years has stood as a beacon of hope in a scandalously neglected community.

Now that the Riverside Housing Association is to take over the estate from Manchester City Council, the school is marking the new start with a new name.

From next term it will be known as Oakenclough Primary.

I wish it every success.

The other school is in Ashley.

It has just endured a double ordeal - an OFSTED inspection and an inquiry by Cheshire County Council into whether so small a school with just 38 pupils, should be closed.

It came through both triumphantly.

The OFSTED report concluded, in the modern jargon, that Ashley School delivers excellent value for money.

And the threat of closure has gone away for good.

The headteacher, Naureen Wakefield, called the children to a special assembly to tell them the good news.

When they had stopped cheering a 10-year-old said: 'Mrs Wakefield, why don't we sing the school hymn?'

And so they did.

And when they had finished singing 'Heavenly Father', there was not a dry eye in the house.

That's the spirit of Ashley School, which now at last has a secure and settled future.

Converted for the new archive on 13 March 2001. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.