`If I thought of him as a huge figure, my legs would be jelly'

Working for an MP is a unique position. Alex Channer tells Katie Sampson about her life as William Hague's assistant private secretary

I've always been a Conservative voter and was very interested in discussing politics at university, although I didn't like the idea of joining the Young Conservatives, because their image was too extreme. A few years after graduating I went to Washington DC and volunteered on the Dole Presidential Campaign Rapid Rebuttal unit, producing quick-fire press releases and researching into the Clinton fund-raising scandal. The American system is so aggressive that I was surprised by how gentlemanly and intellectual we are in the way we campaign over here.

I had my first interview for the Conservative Party with the head of the news team, Alex Alken, who is quite a bullish character, and the experience was petrifying. I thought I had flunked it. But the three men who gave me my second interview were more laid-back. They were interested in my work in the States and said that they wanted a Rapid Response Unit, too, so I was hired as an election appointee to help set the unit up.

I felt intense disappointment on 1 May. I had put everything into the campaign, working from 6.30am until midnight, and was both physically and mentally exhausted. I just crawled into a hole somewhere and didn't think I would be working for the party again. But I got a call asking if I could come back for the leadership campaign, and suddenly there was a fixed point of hope amidst the disaster. I built up an intense loyalty to William - the possibility that he could be a new young leader who could do something positive for the party made me carry on. I manned the phones, wrote thank-you letters for William, worked out what percentage of constituency chairmen had supported him and picked out the good, supportive articles to send to MPs.

I was still in awe of William, whom I occasionally saw charging in and out of the office in a big burst of air, cheering the team on. He was very much a public figure to me at that stage, the former Secretary of State for Wales, someone I knew from reading the papers. I had always thought of politicians as infinitely scary, important, serious and perhaps a bit pompous. But when I sat down with William on his own he was friendly, relaxed and very normal. I was also struck by his intelligence, which comes across in the way that he looks at you. Although he's been a political animal since the age of 12, he seems quite different from other politicians. The Conservative party had seemed elitist and upper class, but William has no airs and graces. He's also younger than most politicians, and has a lot more personal charm.

We were all involved in the organisation of his wedding, which created a buzz in the office. Ffion would often come in, and they were so obviously completely in love that it bonded us as a team - we would sit there saying "Aah, how sweet." On the wedding day Ffion got changed in William's office and she asked us to take champagne to the reporters outside, which was our one little moment of glory. William meantime was pacing around downstairs. I have never seen him so nervous in my life; suddenly he seemed very human.

Sebastian Coe runs the office and gives us our marching orders. My job is to commission briefings ready for the meetings; for example I will be asked to find out about defence and the Iraq situation. I also co-ordinate William's visits. I arrive by 8.15am and we go through the diary making sure that every minute of the day is organised to avoid any disasters. The purpose of William's regional visits is for him to meet and listen to the people as well as enthusing the party workers.

I must admit that whenever William goes out of the building I'm terrified that he will ring to say something like, "Why are we in Bognor Regis when we are supposed to be in Liverpool?" but so far it hasn't happened. Personally I am hugely disorganised; I tend to miss my own trains; but the weight of knowing that the leader of the Opposition would look a fool if there were a mistake means I'm extra careful. It's horrible to think that the press are always watching you and waiting for you to fall.

I generally leave work at 7.30pm, although two nights a week I work late at the House of Parliament. It's run rather like a public school; if you are an MP you are a god; if you're not, you are dirt.

William is easy to work for, straightforward, never unreasonably angry and very funny. He takes a real interest in his team. He also has the most phenomenal memory, which is quite terrifying. The question of what to call him is complicated. You shouldn't really refer to him as William, because it's far too personal; it should either be "Mr Hague" or "Leader", but I can't bring myself to say "Leader" because it sounds too ridiculous, and I don't think he likes it. He's just my boss; if I thought of him all the time as this huge figure, I would come in to work with my legs like jelly. But every now and then I have to remind myself who I am working for, otherwise I would become too blase.

I often wonder what it would be like if he was suddenly made prime minister; I think I would revert to being completely terrified. I saw the Prime Minister the other day and although I know I was supposed to think "Terrible Tony Blair", I confess I was completely overcome.

As leader of the Opposition you get an official car, but that's it really. It's a healthy reminder of the difference between being in and out of office. I think the transition initially came as a bit of a shock for those who were used to being in government. In our office there are five girls and eight men. One night I came across the men working together on the Conservative women's speech and William was regaling them with tales of former girlfriends. Although the party is still male-dominated, I think it's only a question of time before that changes.

Friends always berate me for working for William Hague, saying, "Why aren't you a young Labour supporter, when they are the Millennium party?" Whenever I can, I try to explain that I disagree intensely with Labour's nanny state and their infringement of civil liberties; they seem to be a party of the urban middle classes, a party without principle. I think if Tony Blair's PA were to be interviewed she would be very carefully briefed beforehand, whereas I haven't been briefed at all. I don't have a huge game plan; I don't want to be an MP because I like being a back- room planner, but I do feel confident that one day I will be working for William Hague, Prime Minister.