Let English tax-payers hold a referendum on expelling Scotland

I can’t be the only person in England who, while listening to all the latest hoo-hah about Scottish independence, found myself dreaming of a pre-emptive strike against the whingeing subsidy-junkies north of the border. Why doesn’t England announce plans to hold a referendum on whether to expel Scotland from the Union? I reckon it could be used to set a precedent for future elections by confining the vote to tax-payers (as we’re the poor sods who fund the Exchequer’s lavish subsidies to Scotland).

Oddly, I think this might bring Jock to his senses. At the moment, he appears to be labouring under the misapprehension that England is simply terrified that their partner in a loveless, abusive marriage will walk out (after eating the last deep-fried Mars bar, draining the whiskey bottle and slapping wifey around a bit for old times sake). While this might be true of those living in those English regions which – like Scotland – take out more tax than they put in, I suspect that the Midlands, the South and the South East would be quite happy to see the curmudgeonly old sod take a permanent hike.

Relationships are doomed when every last scrap of affection disappears. Whatever affection Scotland felt towards England (not a lot, admittedly) evaporated in the 1980s, when Mrs Thatcher refused to go on supporting the ruinously heavy, cul-de-sac industries that provided employment for so many Scots. For nearly two decades, England maintained its affection for Scotland, but when your partner replies to every cheery “Hello!” and gift and act of kindness with a glum silence or a sarcastic aside or a hurtful insult – well, it’s hard not to start harbouring fantasies about reaching for the rolling pin.

Apart from Margaret Thatcher, the other person I blame for Scotland’s attitude is Brit-hating Mel Gibson- Braveheart has a lot to answer for. But what caused England to tire of its role as the abused wife? Two things, I reckon. First, there was that widely reported remark by Andy Murray that he’d rather see any football team win the World Cup other than England.  I suspect it was merely a jokey aside, but I imagine a lot of English people began asking themselves why the hell, if that was his attitude, they should support this tartan twat – or, come to that, any Scottish athlete?

Then, of course, there was the credit crunch, brought to us by a combination of a Scottish prime minister who couldn’t stop spending our money and a grotesquely incompetent Scottish head of a grotesquely incompetent Scottish bank. I suspect – fairly or not – that every bit of terrible economic news and every tightening of the English belt is associated in most English minds – whether consciously or subconsciously – with Scotland.

As a result, when it comes to the area of the kingdom north of Carlisle, the iron has entered the English soul: the kitchen drawer has been opened and we’re rootling around inside for that rolling pin.

Of course, the marriage analogy suggests an equal partnership, but a better analogy might be to describe England as the long-suffering parents of a bolshie, out-control teenager who refuses to do a thing they’re told – tidy their room, wash the car, do their homework - despite being in receipt of a lavish weekly allowance despite the fact that Dad has just been made redundant. Of course, it’s the parents's fault for not setting behavioural limts, or demanding anything in return. The reason for that is simple – the last authoritarian parent the Scots had to put up with was Mrs Thatcher, and they’ve been throwing a tantrum about that for thirty years. Successive foster parents have smothered them with kindness, but that’s only made their behaviour worse.

Announcing an English referendum would be the political equivalent of a grown-up taking charge and shouting “Go to your room, young man – you’re grounded!”

If that doesn’t make the ungrateful little sod come to his senses, then there’s little for it but to throw him out of the house so he can taste the reality of “Freedom!” in a world where Mum and Dad aren't footing the bill, and his formerly generous European uncle has run out of money.