Dear The Weekly,

In the famous words of Victor Meldrew… ‘I can’t believe it’. It has been five months since my last e-mail to you, and, as I recall, that was just a few days after I had moved into Number 11. How time flies when you are having fun. It has been Spend, Spend, Spend, all the way. No wonder they are calling me Santa Sunak. I just love it! I know the country can’t afford it, but what the heck. And now that I have delivered my summer review, I can concentrate on my other passion… cricket. You may know that I was born-and-bred in Hampshire so, when I agreed to be MP for Richmond, I naturally thought they were referring to leafy south-west London - just up the M3 from home. But… by ‘eck the darned place is up NORTH!' Anyway, every cloud has a silver lining (or so I thought). Surely, in my new and very important position, I should now expect invitations from both counties to my ‘local’ Test matches - at Headingley and The Ageas Bowl? But it seems not. This wretched virus thing is proving to be a right pain in the proverbial. Even so, sneaking into the first Test at Southampton last week was still very much on the cards. I had the cunning plan of getting a temporary job as a waiter. But DC caught wind of it and snitched on me to BJ who threw a wobbly. You know, he really needs to watch out. I have heard rumblings that some folk in the party want to topple him. But Heaven knows who would want to take over as PM!!

I expect you want an update on how I am going to kick-start the property market. Trust me, I know it is really important (not least as my family has a small investment portfolio too). Well, the most significant thing I have done so far is to persuade the Bank of England to re-start their QE buying programme. All in, they are now up to £745,000,000,000. (I could have abbreviated that to £745 billion, but I just love seeing all those noughts!). I know they are supposed to be independent but what’s the point of us ‘all being in this together’ if they don’t play along? It’s a win-win situation. It means that I can carry on spending (and have a ridiculously low interest rate to pay), and they have my word that DC won’t interfere at Threadneedle Street. The result? Ten-year gilts are yielding just 0.16%. And for two-year maturities, they are actually paying me for the pleasure (minus 0.09%) which, I am pretty sure, is a reflection of my charisma. In fact, that would make a great title for my next book, The Charisma Factor. Good one, eh?

So, with fixed income yielding such miserable returns, given how absurd that is, I am banking on more dosh coming into the property market. Think of it, according to MSCI/IPD, property is yielding, by comparison, a phenomenal 4.7% per annum. At that rate, why wouldn’t the punters want a piece? Okay… I accept that not every tenant is paying (all) their rent at present, and rental values may slip in some areas a bit too, but come on… 4.7%. Then add my zero-rate stamp duty threshold on resi up to £500,000, a whole bunch of air corridors to let in all that lovely overseas capital, Project Speed (which is worth another £5 billion into social-infrastructure projects on top of my Spring Budget) and some long-overdue changes to the Use Classes Order and… bingo, we should be off to the races.

Talking of Boris, did you know that today is National Stick Out Your Tongue Day? Seriously, it is. It is also International Ice Cream Day. Which has given me an idea. You know that Boris is trying to promote a national weight-loss campaign over the summer? Well, I have planned for Mr Whippy to drive up Downing Street this afternoon. When he hears the van’s jolly jingle, Boris simply won’t be able to resist coming out and buying a 99 cone. And when he takes his first lick, and it drips all down his tie, I’ll take a quick photo of him from behind the curtains and capture yet another of his indiscretions… just in case he ever thinks of trying to replace me.

That said, I know I have to be a bit careful. Apparently, this coming Tuesday is Invite An Alien To Live With You Day and I don’t want Boris alighting on the idea that I should invite Dominic Cummings to stay with us at Number 11. Pulling a stunt like that would not be funny. To be fair though, we haven’t seen too much of DC recently as he has been touring the Civil Service and Cabinet Office, working out how he can sharpen things up a bit. Take my word for it though, if he tries to interfere at the Treasury, he can kiss goodbye to his stocking being filled this year by Father Christmas. After all, we are going to need some sharpshooters around the place to dream up a new snappy slogan to give the impression that we know how to rescue the economy… even if we don’t. I am not convinced that ‘Build, Build, Build’ is compelling enough. And Spend, Spend, Spend sounds too reckless. So, I have been thinking of modifying Coca Cola’s Christmas ad to… ‘Santa Sunak is coming… Santa Sunak is coming…’ What do you think? And maybe everyone could be given a free bottle of Coke to go with their August luncheon voucher or their next universal credit/unemployment benefit cheque. The real thing, eh?

Do keep in touch.

Best wishes to everyone at The Weekly and all your readers.

Dishy Rishi aka Santa Sunak
11 Downing Street.