The PM ducked two opportunities to declare his confidence in the Attorney General.
Starmer paid an unintended compliment to the Reform leader by singling him out for attack.
In his brilliant new work Dinshaw shows how friends fell out in the 1640s.
Badenoch pointed out that the Employment Bill is incompatible with the Government’s great new mission.
Badenoch accused him of taking freedom away from head teachers and selling out to the teaching unions.
The PM depresses his own followers by being so gloomy about his inheritance from the Conservatives.
When placed under pressure over the grooming gangs, the PM indicates that all criticism of him is illegitimate.
Cruddas foresaw a year ago that it would be “difficult to identify the purpose of a Starmer government”.
Meanwhile Farage offers the nation a faultless imitation of a cashiered major.
The PM was stung by the WASPI women and could not find the words needed to carry his backbenchers with him.
She treats him like a boy who has not done his homework, and the injustice of it grates on him.
He has an immense appetite for stories, and politicians talk to him because he tries to report with reasonable fidelity what they say.
The Prime Minister strove to hide how wounded he feels at having his integrity doubted.
Badenoch’s ebullience made a delightful contrast to the PM’s lamentations.
The Deputy Prime Minister sounded happy, and seemed quite unaware how people might feel outside the palace gates.