As imagined by Brian Beacom DID you hear what Anas Sarwar, the new Labour kid on the block, had the nerve to say to me this week? “Grow up!” he yelled, seething about my election priorities. Honestly, just because I’ve spent my adult life at weekends wearing short trousers, a tight little black top and waving my arms in the air like a Second World War schoolboy learning semaphore, doesn’t mean I’m immature. Grow up? You grow up, Anas, or I’ll tell my twin sister what you said about me and she’ll be really cross.