Yesterday, rows upon rows of giddy eyes began to bob around in their sockets as Rishi Sunak sat to loud roars. Excited Tory MPs.
They rubbed the backs of their hands and licked their lips with unrestrained glee. ‘More!’ they unisoned. ‘Moooorrrre!’
The Chancellor smiled smugly and waved goodbye to their applause. It was as if some big cat dandy just laid himself down in a club and announced that the drinks were on him.
Rishi’s Budget turned out to be another wallet-busting spendathon. The sort of hell-for-leather spree a footballer’s wife might go on after her fella’s been caught in flagrante with another popsy.
More money for schools, more for transport, more for prisons… more, more, more! Heavens. So this is the sort of Big Spender Shirley Bassey warned us about.
Splashing out: Rishi’s Budget was another spending spree that broke the bank. After her husband was flagrantly arrested, a footballer’s spouse might indulge in a similar hell-for-leather shopping spree. Pictured yesterday: Rishi sunak in Parliament
Will such profligacy be able to wake our economy from its post-Covid slumber? It’s impossible to know. But one thing’s for sure, it sent the wind right up his opponents. Wily Rishi hadn’t just stolen their clothes, but ransacked the entire wardrobe and paraded them all down Whitehall.
The opposition front bench sat silently, arms folded, at the end. You could have been staring in a dead room at a provincial trainstation.
For years they’ve demanded a Treasury splurge. And here it was being delivered, not by some bearded, wonky-specced old Trot, but by an ex-Goldman Sachs millionaire who wears £90 flip-flops. It just ain’t fair!
Mr Sunak spoke for just 70 minutes. It was initially expected that it would last longer. He arrived with a speech as thick and dense as a breeze block. We were relieved to see that each page contained just two dozen words.
Kick-off was delayed for a few minutes as Dame Eleanor Laing, Deputy Speaker, issued another rebuke to the Government over the amount information that had been leaked to the media. ‘Resign!’ yelled Labour MPs.
Rishi shot Madam Deputy Speaker one of those choirboy looks intended to show it wouldn’t happen again.
The Prime Minister wasn’t budging though. He shook his head and exhaled in protest, a goofy mop drooping above his face mask. ‘Ain’t done nuffink, yer honour.’
The Conservative front bench was again covered in face covers. Rishi wore a particularly sharp outfit. Sleek. Expensive. Hermes probably. Jacob Rees-Mogg, the icon of devil-may care rebellion, was left without.
More money for schools, more for transport, more for prisons… more, more, more! Heavens. This is the Big Spender Shirley Bassey warned of.
Sunak’s opening remarks were met with a barrage of away fan noise clearly designed to put him off his stride. He persevered regardless. It’s notable how much more oomph he gives his words than at his admittedly impressive debut two years ago. Incidentally, he’s sprouted a few grey hairs since then. It’s not surprising.
He was soon in his groove and pinging off soundbites. He was building an economy ‘fit for a new age of optimism’, he said.
He described the Conservatives as the ‘true party of public services’. PPS Andrew Griffith (Arundel, South Downs), an ex Sky boss who radiates ministerial ambitions, elicited loyal cheers.
Not everything went as planned. A passage on green energy briefly put us in a coma. Neither was the announcement of a resumption of foreign aid met with enthusiasm. With Rishi now asserting himself over the chamber, Labour’s benches had quietly slipped into stasis.
Shadow energy minister Ed Miliband was the only one to show any energy. He kept busy trying to feed response lines into shadow chancellor Rachel Reeves.
Loud cheers met changes in alcohol duty. It was not the SNP, as it turned out. They were moody.
It was a curious note to end. A slight row erupted after the embarrassingly boosterist statement.
Rishi reminded everyone that it was not up to him to solve everyone’s problems. ‘Government has its limits,’ he said sombrely. He was determined to lower taxes. He wanted to reward his employees.
Was he discreetly trying to let us know this was more the Prime Minister’s Budget than his? Certainly one for Westminster’s mischief makers to chew over.
‘Not enough’ was Reeves’s predictable response. Quelle surprise. It’s not possible to drain the vaults and Labour will still require more spending. Despite this, she did far better than her boss. Even on one of his best days. Ms Reeves’ problem is her opponent never seems to have a bad one.