The man who might be king

Portillo trying to find the locals

		By Nick Assinder BBC News Online political correspondent

Election walkabouts are always a bit of a risky business for politicians - and Michael Portillo's Kensington and Chelsea patch has its own, admittedly rather privileged, pitfalls.

In less grand constituencies the trick is to shmooze a few local voters, dodge hecklers and nutters and avoid tripping over the occasional basking drunk.

In Kensington and Chelsea things are different. As Mr Portillo discovered on a sultry afternoon stroll, the biggest problem was to find a local voter at all - drunk, insane or otherwise.

Portillo: ducked leadership questions

Time and again as his aides grabbed people off the street and asked: "Would you like to meet Michael Portillo?" they were met with the response "Que?", or something similar, from expensively-dressed tourists.

Many said they would be only too delighted to engage in conversation with the shadow chancellor but - as they hailed from South Africa, Czechoslovakia, Portugal, America or even an entirely different area of the country - there didn't seem to be a lot of point. "But good luck anyway."

Others simply shrugged uncomprehendingly and walked on. Then there was the hurdle of a Big Issue seller, but more of that later.

Avoiding the question

To be fair, there was a smattering of genuine, local voters to be charmed, including members of the Onslow Neighbourhood Association.

They could not wait to get at Mr Portillo to express their anger at the way huge lorries delivering and collecting from Christies' auction rooms are allowed free range on double yellow lines, blocking the free flow of other traffic.

Mr Portillo's second problem was avoiding questions from reporters about his apparently dimmed ambitions to become prime minister or even leader of the Tory party.

Those were met either with complete silence, or a smiling: "I'm not giving interviews".

Priming passers-by to ask the same question would, needless to say, have been beyond the journalistic pale, so it once again went unanswered.

Many see that silence as his way of avoiding the question that has dogged him since the day he was re-elected to the Commons in a by-election during this parliament.

But there is genuine uncertainly about exactly what Mr Portillo's plans are in that area.

Some say his shock 1997 defeat, his admission to gay experiences in his younger days and his apparent conversion to liberal social policies since then have genuinely changed him.

Hague could face challenge

They believe much of the old fire has gone and they question his passion for leadership.

Others claim that he is simply keeping his powder dry to see which way the wind blows after the election before being persuaded to run for the job as William Hague's successor.

Big Issue

Much clearly depends on what happens to the Tories at the election and, if they lose, whether the leader could expect to win the poll after that.

Leading a decimated Tory party towards yet another likely defeat would be a deeply unattractive proposition to any politician. But would he ever get another chance?

This, it has to be said, was not first on the minds of the people, local voters or not, that Mr Portillo met.

The very nature of these walkabouts is that you get little chance to hear more than the odd complaint about the government, or your own party, or to offer any comprehensive solutions.

And, to be fair to Mr Portillo, he got plenty of that and dealt with it all adroitly, if a little distantly.

Almost an hour into his tour and he had good reason to feel, despite the obvious frustrations, that it had gone as well as these things ever can. Then loomed the Big Issue seller.

Kept Going

Many politicians have learned to their cost that Big Issue sellers are no-win situations.

Portillo: Are you from around here?

They are likely to berate you for your lack of policies for the homeless, claim - as in Jack Straw's case - that you are a tightwad by insisting on getting exact change back from a tenner.

So, as he was approached by the blanket-wielding paper seller, Mr Portillo smiled sweetly but kept going.

In fact Nick , who occasionally squats in the borough, was an engaging and eloquent young man who thought the Tories were wonderful and was full of praise for the way Margaret Thatcher had: "wiped socialism off the face of British politics."

Still, by the time he had expressed those views, Mr Portillo had turned the corner and into a politicians dream - a score or more of young mothers with children and babies.

Needless to say they had all emerged from the local French School and, even if they lived in the borough, probably didn't have a vote.