The dastardly Mr Deedes

Newton Investment Management chief executive Helena Morrissey is stepping down after 15 years, depriving the City of one of its more intriguing characters. A willowy, soigné figure, Morrissey, 50, lives in a five bedroom home in West London where she has reared nine children. Despite managing some £50bn in assets, she travels to work on the Tube and insists on doing the ironing. She shares a fourposter with hubby Richard, a bearded Buddhist monk who teaches meditation.

Frisky Lloyds boss Antonio HortaOsorio’s recent alleged dalliance with horsey blonde Wendy Piatt will likely lead to some embarrassing questions from the bank’s owlish chairman, Lord Blackwell. Dryas-a-biscuit Norman, 64, is an experienced hand in such delicate matters. He was Head of Policy to John Major, whose cabinet was a permanent cascade of falling trousers.

JPMorgan’s brash, £18m-a-year boss Jamie Dimon’s holiday reading list includes The Conservative Heart: How To Build A Fairer, Happier, And More Prosperous America, by Arthur C. Brooks and a new biography of Ronald Reagan. Hardly breezy seaside material, but workaholic Dimon, 60 – so-called ‘King of Wall Street’ – doesn’t do frivolity and barely switches off. He refused to skip work even while undergoing chemotherapy for throat cancer two years ago, of which he is now clear.

Don’t expect to see ex-Bank of England governor Lord King on Twitter any time soon. He says: ‘I have no wish to add to the various experiences available to read and view on social media.’ Sage Merv, 68, is much too diplomatic to add ‘which I find too moronic to go anywhere near’.

High brow Financial Times’ upcoming Weekend Festival, held (where else?) on the socialist haven of Hampstead Heath next month, features a pow-wow with eccentric couturier Dame Vivienne Westwood. She’ll be waxing forth on her favourite subjects of ‘politics, climate change – and Brexit’. Someone pass me the cyanide capsules.