Nearby the ardent Lefties are having a much friskier time

Quentin Letts gets away from the porridgey crowd of the official conference

CHICAGO mobster movies often have an outwardly blameless establishment – a laundry, say – which is just a facade. Behind it lurks a smoke-filled speakeasy with cigarette girls, jazz band and gambling gangsters.

Same here in Liverpool, where Labour is holding its conference. The official gathering is prosaic, formulaic, going through the motions. This, like the Chicago laundry, is a front. The real action is a few blocks away at a disused church where the ardent Leftists of Momentum are having a much friskier time.

Yesterday I went first to the official conference. There was a platform with the usual porridgey crowd of National Executive Committee drongoes, the usual bland slogan – ‘Working Together, Real Change’ – and the usual witless speeches.

In a discussion about communities we had references to ‘Thatcher’, ‘Dame Shirley Porter’, ‘Enoch Powell’ and ‘Rachman’ (as in Peter Rachman, the slum landlord of the 1950s). Ah, Labour, the voice of tomorrow.

Shadow Environment Secretary Rachel Maskell, a bookish sort, had the answer to Britain’s problems: let them grow vegetables. She wanted farms in city areas and envisaged communities coming together to grow their own greens on street corners. Marrows for all!

Demanding ‘a new food framework’, Ms Maskell described a Corbynland where the masses would have ‘the privilege of rearing stock and growing crops’. She added that there was ‘another community that needs Labour – badgers’. They’ll be wanting to give Mr Brock the vote next.

Riveted we were not, though some delegates pretended to be ecstatic at mentions of multi-culturalism and diversity. A shocker called Tosh McDonald from Aslef – long white hair, teeth like a bag of tacks – demanded nationalisation of the railways as ‘the way forward’. Going forward certainly helps in transport, yes. A shadow minister, Andy McDonald, said his transport policy was ‘we must stand together’. Was he thinking of commuter trains? But all this felt humdrum. The dronings about ‘draconian Tory cuts’ and ‘the spiteful and malicious Tories’ were trotted forth without much gusto.

How different it all was at Black-E, a nearby venue where Momentum was holding its rival attraction. Throngs of upbeat urban revolutionaries packed into a seminar rooms for urgent discussions about ‘fighting the Higher Education Bill’, ‘ campaigns against state violence’, ‘football as a force for social change’ and ‘the politics of art’.

An itchy young woman on the front desk, quite posh and eyes blue as a Coventry City shirt, chatted ceaselessly into a collar microphone as she liaised with other Momentum organisers. There was an air of bustle and business, 30- something staff helping parents with buggies down the stairs.

Some men wore ‘ Orgreave’ sweatshirts. ‘Defy Tory Rule’ said a sign, while another bore the name of Sinn Fein. Outside, a wellspoken woman was gathering signatures for a petition to de-select Blairite MPs. She was doing brisk business. For all this talk about internet trolls and nasty anti-Semites, these people were perfectly approachable, even though they looked at my Herbert Gussett sports jacket and no doubt thought me a complete prune.

As a teenager I used to drink in IRA pubs in Dublin and they, too, were perfectly civil, being secure in their dogma. Same thing with Momentum. Though I had no ticket, they decently let me in for a while to savour the atmosphere. It had a steaminess, a sense of mission.

ACOOPERATIVE bakery was flogging hot pies which smelled heavenly. There was an art stall, a Tshirt stall (shirts with ‘Still Hate Thatcher’ and ‘I’m the one the Daily Mail warned you about’), a bookstall promoting Salvador Allende and banners honouring the Liverpool Dockers, Jean- Charles de Menezes and ‘Women for Corbyn’. I bet the old romancer loves that.

Here, where rebels networked, where momentum was indeed being built, was the Corbyn Labour Party’s speakeasy, its molten core. They really do think they know how to transform the world. The belief may be misguided but you can see how it might become addictive.