Gordon looks askance at him. This is not usual chat for them. He’s obviously been paying attention to that tedious TV debate. Mainly grasping stage-managed folk all trying to persuade the country that they were the most genuine, truthful and insightful.
“Err, I’m undecided,” Gordon says.
That’s a lie – he’s already knows. He’ll never put an X in the box for back room barrackers, machiavellian plotters, inward-looking divisive nationalists or idealistic delusionists.
Wallace gets his vote – it really is a matter of loaf and death.