Interesting as the story is, though, I find a nasty taste in the way many of the people interviewed experienced the whole thing as a disagreeable but pleasantly exciting social kerfuffle, a leftie/intellectual version of so-and-so's latest affair in suburbia.
Alison Macleod, the Daily Worker's TV critic, described how "all around us the marriages of party members were cracking up". Everywhere friendships were under strain. The Thompsons fell out with the Kettles.Hey! Janos! Bad news! What, are we running out of RPGs? No, the Thompsons have fallen out with the Kettles. And what the fuck is this about?
Another friend, the philosopher Maurice Cornforth, stayed in the party, but guiltily sent the Thompsons a cheque for £50 when Imre Nagy, the reformist Hungarian Communist leader, was executed in 1958.What, did they have a bet on?