THOUGH some might reckon that the allegations about university high jinks are what will remain from Call Me Dave, a new, and definitely unauthorised, biography of the British prime minister, the smarter money is on the cushions, flowery shorts, and hounds doing the real damage.

David Cameron is clever enough to know that poshness is his Achilles’ heel, the kryptonite to his powers, the engine emission test on his new VW. Fortunate enough to be born into a well to do family, he has sometimes treated the fact as though it is something of a hindrance, a secret that must be smoothed over or tidied away.

Accordingly, it is in the realm of the personal rather than the political that the book by Michael Ashcroft and co-author Isabel Oakeshott often puts the hand-made boot in. So we learn of parties in the Cotswolds where Cam, Sam, and the other “beautiful people” of the Chipping Norton set spend their evenings in “Moroccan-themed tents festooned with floor cushions”, sipping drinks and scratching each others backs like a troop of tiddly monkeys. When not in a marquee, Dave is to be found on one of his many holidays, clad in shorts that would give a Hawaiian florist a headache. But at least it is safer to be photographed on a beach than riding to hounds. That would never do, so well done to the researchers who found a picture of him at the Heythrop Hunt in 2004. That will sit nicely next to the now infamous Bullingdon Club photo.

All told, Mr Cameron, we learn, has raised “chillaxing” to something of an art form. He is a Mars Bar PM, he works, certainly, but he knows how to rest and play as well. Given this fondness for the quiet life, you, me, and everyone else in Scotland should feel thoroughly ashamed of ourselves for what we put him through last September. Hang your head in disgrace, get thee to the naughty step, and take 20 per cent off your pocket money for giving the Prime Minister the fright of his life.

To be specific, it was those who took part in a poll which showed a narrow lead for Yes wot did the damage to Mr Cameron’s sleeping patterns. Normally a seven hours a night man, he suddenly took to staring at the clock during the wee sma' hours of the morning, wondering how quickly he would be evicted from Number 10 for breaking up the United Kingdom. It was 11 days before Scotland was due to go to the polls, he had to see the Queen at Balmoral, and this kick up the assumptions was the last thing he needed. So he stirred. You know the rest of the history, from that “casual” aside of HRH outside Crathie Kirk to the issuing of The Vow and all points in between. Mr Cameron’s bacon was saved.

It is revealing that Scotland, and its potential loss, should have had more of an impact on Mr Cameron’s equilibrium than, say, the lost vote on Syria, or the botched Budget of 2012. Both of those, serious as they were, would in days to come be mere grains in the sands of time. Scotland going it alone was the stuff of history, a genuinely once-in-an-aeon event, something for which he would always be remembered and, in some quarters, never forgiven. That hand of history that once rested on the shoulder of Tony Blair was poking Mr Cameron in the chest and telling him to pull his finger out, or else.

In doing so, he was canny enough to realise that he had to be seen to be staying away from the fray. With Better Together about as much use as a cat on a fox hunt, he knew his influence would have to be brought to bear from a distance, and principally through others. To use a cuddly feely term, and in the time honoured tradition of politicians down the ages, he “reached out” to those who could help him achieve his aim.

It is an essential lesson to learn in politics. It is certainly one that Nicola Sturgeon could write chapter and verse on. Early on in her political career, somewhat shy and naturally wary of conceding too much, she kept herself to herself. Now, having attained the office of First Minister, she has taken to reaching out, connecting, pressing the flesh, whatever one wishes to call it, with all the gusto of a revivalist preacher. What was that tour of Scotland all about if not reaching out? There is to be a new campaign in the next few months, half a million doors to be knocked. From overseas visits and televised debates to Vogue photoshoots and shopping mall walkabouts, the First Minister appreciates the value of projecting the message beyond the converted.

Even so, the overture this week to Labour and the Liberal Democrats was more than just a bit cheeky; it was positively Trumpian in its shameless showmanship and headline grabbing. In a speech to the Scottish Parliamentary Journalists’ Association (it is like a Glee Club without the glee), Ms Sturgeon called on “Kezia and Willie” to join her in supporting a new referendum on independence in the event of a “material change in circumstances” or a surge in support for independence. Extending the hand of political friendship on a referendum was the inevitable next move after both leaders gave their members the green light to campaign for independence should they be so inclined. One cannot, after all, be in favour of celebrating Christmas then postpone it till hell freezes over. Yet it was a move on Ms Sturgeon’s part that Ms Dugdale and Mr Rennie, those babes in the woods of Scottish politics, obviously did not see coming when they so generously granted the referendum equivalent of a free vote. Thus does the First Minister gain one more yard in the march towards another referendum.

How quickly does she want to get to her destination? That depends. One view is that she wants another poll now the way Mr Cameron wanted to explain to the Queen how he managed to lose Scotland. Others see her as playing a far cannier, if familiar, game of normalising the idea of a new referendum in the hope that it will naturally come to pass. There has, as yet, been no material change in circumstances nor, in advance of the manifesto for next year’s Holyrood elections, even a clear list of possible triggers.

Later rather than sooner would be the safer bet. Ms Sturgeon, like her counterpart in Downing Street, is a politician who knows the value of gut instinct. Just as Mr Cameron knew when to sound the alarm over the independence referendum, and break out every big gun the Establishment had in it arsenal, so she knows that large numbers of Scots, being still scunnered by the referendum experience, can only take so much talk of a new one. In any case, a referendum will continue to be a non-starter until Ms Sturgeon has a convincing answer on the pound. Like the twelfth of never, that will not be happening any time soon either.