BREXIT means . . . a distantly receding prospect.

With every passing day it becomes glaringly more apparent that those who refuse to accept the British people’s firm decision to leave the EU are determined to wreck it, if possible.

Emboldened by Theresa May’s loss of authority through the general election, her chancellor, Philip Hammond, seemingly felt no qualm in revealing, in his recent annual Mansion House speech, his distinct lack of appetite for Brexit. Not once did he speak positively of it. His approach was that of making the best of a bad job.

Thus it would be the Government’s task to “reassure employers that they will still be able to access the talent they need”, and to encourage them to go ahead with investments “that have been on hold since the referendum”.

This mission – not the mission of leaving the EU, please note – would demand “every ounce of skill and diplomacy we can muster”. Success would bring “a collective sigh of relief”. He might just as well have said openly he viewed Brexit as a disaster.

Mr Hammond is a senior minister in the government charged with leading us out of the EU. Around the negotiations swirl calls, from Tony Blair (Labour?), Vince Cable (Lib Dem) and others, that a second referendum must be held on whatever ‘deal’, if any, finally emerges. There are even suggestions that, beyond our scheduled exit date two years hence there could be further years of ‘transition’ before we finally quit.

This much is certain: if we don’t leave within the programmed two years (too long anyway) the British public’s faith in democracy will be shattered beyond repair. The Establishment is now demonstrating the kind of contempt for the general public that spawned the expenses scandal of 2009. The further we get from the referendum, the more safely can the votes of the ignoramuses who delivered the wrong result be ignored.

SO, no more the plummy tones and observations of buses and pigeons on Test Match Special (TMS) by Henry Blofeld. A great loss – possibly terminal. TMS needs contributors that have a hinterland beyond cricket. Though the cricket commentary is paramount that’s not always what keeps one listening, or lingers longest in the memory.

I recall Brian Johnston reminiscing fondly about the Crazy Gang. And I’ve long cherished a passing remark by Christopher Martin-Jenkins, uttered possibly even as the bowler was running up: “Coffee always promises more than it delivers.”

Blofeld was the last in that tradition. In voice and appearance he could have stepped out of the world of Jeeves and Wooster. It’s impossible to believe he isn’t a fan. Which brings us to his trademark phrase, "my dear old thing”.

This might have been freshly minted by Henry. But in what many consider the finest Jeeves story, The Great Sermon Handicap, there’s a point at which Wooster tells a peer’s daughter that his (Wooster’s) friend Bingo Little is in love with her. When she expresses disbelief, Wooster (tactlessly) remarks: “My dear old thing. You don’t know young Bingo. He can fall in love with practically anybody.”

But if that’s the origin of Henry’s catchphrase, he made it his own. In more ways than one, we’ll miss "my dear old thing".