GETTING a pile of bogus ballot papers for the general election delivered to my home address hardly required the skills of a master forger or even a master of deception.
All I had to master was my telephone. I dialled the Home Office’s “postal vote hotline”, spoke to a friendly, if rather theatrical, male telephonist and was asked my name and address.

To my astonishment, he then asked: “How many forms would you like?” I replied, cheekily: “Thirteen.” I never expected to get away with it. “Fine, sir,” he replied. “Just let me check the spelling of your surname.”

Three hours later I telephoned again and, I am convinced, spoke to the same polite operator. I repeated the same address but with a different name. “Fine, sir,” he replied, adding: “How many would you like?” Not one to be greedy, I settled for five. They duly arrived in the same post about one week later.

The forms are simple to complete. The most complex related to which elections I wanted the vote for: parliamentary, local or all.

There was no need to worry about the date of the general election. I merely ticked the box marked: permanent postal vote until further notice. In case I ran out of forms, the application helpfully suggests photocopying if any more are required.

All forms duly filled in, complete with 18 bogus names all at the same address, I telephoned Hackney Council in East London to discuss the best way to hand them over.

Not once was the fact of so many new people going on to the electoral roll raised as an issue. I took the pile of forms in person to the town hall and made to hand them over, only to take them back (I did not want to be accused of breaking the law) feigning the excuse that they had not been signed. Still no alarm bells rang.

Having now discovered a voracious appetite to vote in the elections, I telephoned Hackney Council electoral registration office. I used the same address and bogus name and assumed that the fact that 18 people had been given the correct forms by the postal vote hotline service would have been immediately conveyed to the town hall. Not a bit of it.

The script was the same. “Name, address, and how many forms would you like.” No check was made to see if anyone was already registered at the address or if council tax was being paid on the property. I asked for eight forms this time. My request never raised a flicker of interest.

They arrived in the same envelope to the same imaginary person who has never lived at the house.

As it happens, I will vote in person at my local polling booth on the expected election day of June 7.

The 26 potential additional votes I could have amassed would have made no difference to the outcome in my constituency where Labour has a majority of more than 15,000. But in Torbay, where the Liberal Democrats had a majority of 12 and Winchester where their candidate scraped home by just two votes, they could have swung the election result in a different direction altogether.

But when I cast my vote I will not be able to escape that nagging feeling: how many fictitious voters have already sent in their postal vote before me?