The disadvantage of working from home is that people only seem to respond to your phone calls when you've popped round to the corner shop.

Or when you've decided that it all seems quiet and gone for a swim, or just picked Rugrats up from school and nursery and all hell has broken loose.

Spent much of past week chasing various people, with request for interviews for supplement of Sunday paper, and not actually managing to speak to any of the people concerned.

One of the potential interviewees was Tony, formerly Wedgwood, Benn, who I'd requested an interview with, via his parliamentary secretary, for travel section of paper which runs regularly pieces about famous people's holiday destinations.

Had thought it unlikely that he would spend time talking to me about such trivial matters when there was a war he is opposed to raging in Afghanistan but still thought it worth a try.

Was pleasantly surprised when, after a couple of weeks in which had had no response, his parliamentary secretary called to say he would be calling me himself later in the day.

So, expecting his call, resisted vacuuming house, not wanting to appear unprofessional if he called, and remembered to take mobile to shops, so he would not get answerphone message, but unfortunately he did not call - until Rugrats were back in house and all hell had broken loose.

For a while, managed to contain all hell in the kitchen, with help of chocolate cake bribes, while I took phone into sitting room and explained to Tony Benn what the piece was about and how long I would need to talk to him, etc etc.

As it happened, he was calling me from his holiday home somewhere on the East Coast, where he goes with self and family, whenever he gets the chance.

Spent several minutes waxing lyrical about the delights of this particular stretch of coastline and being able to get away from it all for a few days.

Against the odds, I felt I was on the verge of persuading him to do the interview when five-year-old daughter, who had finished chocolate cake, put head through the door and asked who was on the phone.

I explained that it was no one she knew but someone for my work.

Nevertheless she persisted in asking if she could speak to them.

Daughter has bit of a phone fetish and will not usually be quiet until she has at least been allowed to speak to person on other end of phone.

Mr Benn, a man who has been blessed by small children himself, appeared understanding of the situation and agreed to say hello to her.

I handed her the phone, without explaining to former MP that she has unhealthy obsession with the Prime Minister whose face appeared on leaflets on a daily basis during the pre-election period and who she now considers a family friend.

"Hello," I heard her say. "What's your name?"

Presumably he answered "Tony" because I then heard her saying excitedly: "Tony Blair?"

She handed the phone back to me and Tony Benn remarked that for a five-year-old she was remarkably at ease with the politics of New Labour and declined to be interviewed ...