God Save Pete Doherty.

Peter takes my hand and, barely acknowledging the rest of the band: ‘Just you and me, we can do this without them. You have to believe.’ He’s almost in tears as he says it. Gary and John find something to stare at on the floor.

Q Mag: Then you apparently called Carl a ‘racist’. Peter: Oh shit! OK, I was lairy…and Carl didn’t deserve me bringing up…why did I get kicked out of the band again? It never gets discussed, y'see? Aw I shouldn’t have said it! I love him so much. It’s all coming back to me now. I offered him out as well! 'Toe to toe on the cobbles’ was my expression. I took my jacket off! Jesus Christ. Q Mag: What’s worse is how gracious Barat was. Peter: I’ve never seen him like that before, never; he was elegant and charming and didn’t get battered. Q Mag: Barat bundled him into the toilet and announced some 'massive’ secret news. Peter: He’s been nest-egging. All our advances. Cos he knows I always just spunk mine. He’s got this gaff now, on the seafront, I won’t say where, and we’re gonna open a Libertines Hotel. With a studio, nightclub, a bar. He’d dead set on it. Open to…anyone who’ll pay the bills!