Alastair Darling death: I’m glad that I broke my rule about politicians and friendship. It was a great pleasure and privilege to be his pal - Euan McColm

Alistair Darling genuinely was such an exceptional politician

It is, I think, generally a good idea for journalists and politicians to maintain a little distance. Of course, mutually beneficial relationships develop: without the insights of frontline politicians, the journalists’ version of events is never complete. But friendship is, perhaps, a step too far.

For most of my career, my dealings with Alistair Darling were cordial but professional. But, after the 2014 referendum campaign we were to become friends.

His wife Maggie (always Margaret to Alistair), a former newspaper journalist was the matchmaker, bringing me into the fold at the many parties the couple held at their Edinburgh home. Soon, I’d be taking my kids - then pre-teens - for lunches. They both immediately adored the Darlings, a kind and loving couple, whose devotion to each other and their kids - Calum and Anna - was as touching as it was inspiring.

Tributes have poured in for the former Chancellor Alistair Darling after his death was announced on Thursday 30 November. (Credit: Getty Images)

It was little surprise that the announcement of Alistair’s death at the age of 70 after a short spell in hospital was met with real sadness from across the political spectrum. He may have been a tough opponent but those with whom he tangled - whether Tory or Scottish nationalist - recognised that he was a dedicated public servant of great wisdom and strong moral values.

We talk a lot about the calibre of our politicians, often looking back to an imagined past when they were all so much better than today’s lot. Alistair Darling genuinely was such an exceptional politician, a deserving member of an elite club whose members make an enduring, positive difference to people’s lives.

Alistair’s talents were no secret to Labour Party leaders. Within a year of his election to Westminster in 1987, Neil Kinnock had appointed him to the party’s front bench. When Tony Blair led the party to victory in 1997, Alistair was a member of his first cabinet. He was to remain in cabinet in a variety of roles until Labour’s election defeat in 2010.

Of course, Alistair's lasting legacy will be his swift response - as Chancellor of the Exchequer - to the 2007-08 global financial crisis. His decision to nationalise first Northern Rock and then, to all intents and purposes, the bulk of British banking, amid chaos in the financial markets, protected investors and home owners and set an example for Governments around the world.

It was fascinating, years later, to sit in his garden and hear, first hand, about those turbulent days.

Alistair had a rather stiff public image. He was very much old-fashioned-bank-manager in demeanour. This was a useful quality when it came to reassuring a nervous public 15 years ago and, undoubtedly, served him well during his leadership of the Better Together campaign in 2014, when the contrast between him and the bullish Alex Salmond was at its most stark.

But behind that unflashy exterior lay a bone-dry sense of humour. Alistair was Chic-Murray-droll, calmly delivering hilarious one-liners, often at his own expense.

I’m glad that, in the case of Alistair Darling, I broke my rule about politicians and friendship. It was a great pleasure and privilege to be his pal. Scotland has lost a very fine man and I will miss him.