JUST AS the new Government experiences one of the speediest ministerial resignations on record it may seem a little odd, even perverse, to still have issues with the previous lot, but I’m afraid I have some unfinished business with our former PM.

In short, Gordon Brown let us down, and I’m not talking about the economy, equipment for soldiers or even his less than respectful attitude to certain long-term Labour voters. Furthermore, the “us” in this case includes Gordon himself – and me.

I don’t suppose I have very much in common with Mr Brown, but there is one trait we appear to share. We are just not the smiley types, no matter how hard we try. I can’t speak for Gordon, but in my case it seems when my facial features go into repose they also go into miserable mode. The result is I appear fed up, when the reality often is that my face muscles have simply relaxed, and the setting they relax into is what’s generally known as “hangdog”.

So far as I can recall it’s always been that way, ever since I was a kid. The trouble is, I don’t know it’s happening, because so far as I’m concerned my face is in “neutral”. The results can be unfortunate. I was on a press trip to Spain once when a regional newspaper editor told me I was “the most miserable ******* ******* I’ve ever met”, which was a good warning never to apply for a job in his neck of the woods, but did strike me as a bit extreme.

He wasn’t alone, however, as I found myself being given a most unexpected hug by one of the attractive Spanish ladies assigned to guide us round their fair country. She also thought I was in a state of utter misery, and while it was very nice to get the aforementioned hug (certainly better than being called a miserable you know what) I did feel a bit of a fraud, because I was actually enjoying the trip. I can only think the combination of a very full itinerary, plus seriously high temperatures and the Spanish habit of not eating until late had left me so pleasantly exhausted my face was even more relaxed than normal.

It works the other way, too, so if my spirits are actually quite low, as they have been recently for reasons too tedious to recount, no one notices, because I look the same as always.

So why have a go at Gordon about it? Because he had a chance to do something for those of us cursed with mouths that don’t naturally shoot skywards at the edges. Always presenting himself as a highly serious man, why didn’t he make a virtue of the contrast with his ever-grinning predecessor, Tony Blair? Might he not have appeared a fitter figure to guide the country through the recession if he had presented a more sober and, dare I say, dour face to the world? And might that not have prompted a bit more tolerance for the rest of us who don’t particularly want to resemble The Joker in Batman (as Blair eventually did)?

But no; Gordon flunked it. He no doubt rates not calling an early election when he had the Tories on the back foot as his biggest mistake, but for me a close second was listening to whichever adviser told him to persist with that horribly unnatural grin, which led only to public ridicule, perhaps most famously when former Cabinet colleague Lord “Thumper” Prescott did an impressive impersonation of Gordon’s gurning while visiting York.

The result wasn’t just a disaster for Brown, but an opportunity was irretrievably lost to relieve the misery for so many of us of being expected to look happy all the time.

Still, it didn’t happen, and there’s nothing to do now but put a brave face on things – or not, as the case may be.