Cameron and his press team have a verbal tic – what poker players call a "tell" - that gives them away time after time. And, like a poker player feigning apathy while staking all on a bluff, when times get tough, the PM or his team will announce that he's "very relaxed".
It means he's anything but. He is "very relaxed" about publishing his tax return, took a "relaxed view" earlier this year over the UK's lack of involvement in the eurozone bailout deal, and last year, after he was caught giving an internship to a neighbour, he was "very relaxed about it", too. Doubtful.
It's a habit that goes way back. His team briefed reporters he was "very relaxed" back in July 2009, when journalists first called for Andy Coulson's head over phone-hacking. And he was "relaxed" when Tony Blair looked to be a plausible candidate for president of the European Council. A month earlier, amid a furore over the private incomes of the shadow cabinet, he upped the ante: he was, apparently, "perfectly relaxed".
What is striking is how well such a tired and obvious ploy has worked. Reporters mostly seem to have decided: "Well, if he says he's relaxed, I guess it's not a big deal." As if when he's really in trouble, he'll come out on the steps of No 10 and announce: "Guys, you got me, I'm bricking it." He won't. He'll say he's never been so relaxed in his life. And that's when we'll know Project Cameron is over.
