Goodnight, hero Harry

I wrote in yesterday’s Mirror about my beloved friend Harry Leslie

Smith, who died on

Tuesday after a mercifully short stay in hospital.

Even though he was 95, I genuinely thought Harry would go on for ever. He should have been in London this week, on his way to Calais to continue his tour of refugee camps, and we had planned to share a sherry and to continue plotting the downfall of the Establishment.

Now, I’ll miss his wry sense of humour, great wisdom and the twinkle in his eye. No one person could ever fill his shoes. But if we stand together, we might just be in with a chance.