I left school and went to University in the 1960s.
We were, at the fag-end of the Macmillan Government, entertained by the Profumo scandal, involving a Minister, alleged spies, tarts, and a group of peripherally-involved odd'uns. Inevitably the little people copped the full force of the law while the posh people got off with a bit of embarrassment and a life of good works (that was bearable since there was enough family cash to ease the pain). Stephen Ward and one of the girls went inside.
That's why I have a sense of deja vu about this. Or am I being cynical?
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