Don't know much about him, apart from that he writes for the Spectator. Just done some googling - here's a bit from an interview with Lynn Barber in the Guardian -
*'The most shameful story in the first book is about how he rang a Serbian waitress he'd once shagged and asked her to come round to his flat in the middle of the night - don't bother to dress, he told her, just jump in a cab and I'll pay the driver when you arrive. She did. He meanwhile fell asleep and did not respond to the doorbell. The cab driver dumped her, in her nightie, in the street, having first tried to rape her. Toby felt quite bad about it the next day. Didn't he hesitate to include that? 'It's sometimes a difficult decision whether to include things that cast me in a poor light, and I think the reason for doing so ultimately is that if you can skate very close to the edge and somehow keep the reader with you, they end up liking you more than if they'd liked you from the get-go.'
But his new book has an even worse story about how he insisted on taking his wife skiing when she was pregnant with their first child, and she had a bad fall on the piste that she was afraid might have damaged the baby. Reluctantly, he took her to the doctor who said he could not hear a foetal heartbeat and they should take an air ambulance to hospital immediately. But Toby baulked at paying £30,000 for an air ambulance and drove her there instead. Luckily, the baby was all right - but what a skinflint!
However, the most jaw-dropping moment in the whole ski-miscarriage saga comes when he is driving Caroline to hospital and wonders whether it will turn out to have been a phantom pregnancy and - this is the nub - whether Caroline will 'see the funny side'. I believe I have a more robust sense of humour than most people, but I cannot for the life of me imagine what is the funny side of phantom pregnancy. Could he explain? 'Well, there would have been something absurd about going to the medical centre because there was no heartbeat, thinking that you'd killed the baby, only to discover there was no baby anyway. It's the sort of thing that a couple might be able to laugh about, don't you think?' He asks as if he really wants to know the answer, so I assure him: 'No. Absolutely not. Never.' And he looks puzzled and interested, like a Martian making a mental note: 'Remember - phantom pregnancy not funny.'"*
I've really warmed to him 