Boris had Jezza screaming like Arthur Scargill

... sees the Prime Minister adopt a more gentle tone

WHERE was the Shadow Cabinet? Only last week, playing petty games, they were causing a hoo-ha over Boris Johnson’s proroguing of Parliament.

Yet, when the Prime Minister arrived in the Commons yesterday to inform the House of his latest Brexit proposals, half of Labour’s front bench was nowhere to be seen.

No Angela Rayner. No Dawn Butler. No Sir Keir Starmer giving his lawyerly interjections.

The Government bench, by contrast, was oversubscribed. For a moment I thought one of the men in tights might need to rescue petite culture minister Helen Whately from her impacted position between Nadhim Zahawi’s and Geoffrey Cox’s considerable rumps.

The PM’s previous appearance at the dispatch box was one to forget. After that ill-judged ‘ humbug’ remark to Paula Sherriff (Lab, Dewsbury), it all turned rather horrid.

This time, we got statesman Boris. Soft language, gentle tones, those normally jabby arms firmly by his side.

For almost two hours, he answered questions on his proposals to the EU over the Irish backstop issue and not once did he misbehave.

He was like a knickerbockered cherub, atoning for a recent tantrum.

When Yvette Cooper (Lab, Normanton, Pontefract and Castleford) raised an issue over workers’ rights, Boris politely suggested they should meet to discuss her concerns. Yvette looked so shocked I thought she’d swallowed a gobstopper.

This genteelness threw Jeremy Corbyn who’d arrived spoiling for a fight. Responding to Boris’s statement, he burst into one of his shouty Arthur Scargill rants.

‘ No Labour MP will vote for this,’ screamed Jezza, not entirely truthfully. Wrong tone, comrade. The PM had come in peace. Far better to have sounded welcoming but dismissive. By angrily rejecting the proposals out of hand, Corbyn came across as an unreasonable stick-in-the mud. Boris described the opposition’s reaction as ‘disappointing’. There was a rueful shake of the head, but no taunts or tirades.

I’m not sure this more genteel approach isn’t more effective.

SNP leader Ian Blackford announced that the Government’s plans were ‘unacceptable, unworkable, undeliverable.’

The SNP, he added, puffing out his considerable chest, ‘stood ready to bring this government down’. Sarcastic ‘wooooos’ echoed around the chamber.

Again the PM restrained himself. Resisting temptation to mock Blackers’ absurd braggadocio, he suggested the best way to topple him would be to persuade Corbyn to bring a vote of no confidence.

The potential to do the most damage to Boris appeared two rows behind, where a spectral figure had been lingering all morning.

Theresa May (Con, Maidenhead) sat expressionless in a turquoise dress that gently inflated when she stood up in the way meringues puff up in the oven.

She listened intently to what members had to say, her only movements that slight tilt of the head she does when straining her ear.

Clasped in her grip was a leather-bound notepad in which, from time to time, the former PM made the odd jotting.

For a moment, I thought she was preparing a question for her successor. Imagine the disappointment when eventually this terse, enigmatic woman slowly rose, bowed gently towards the chair and quietly made her way to the exit.

In other news, Speaker Bercow has lost his voice. His larynx is raspier than a kazoo. For delicate creatures still recovering from Conference season, such news was manna from Heaven.

HE afforded himself one minor rant during the Attorney General’s questions, criticising Geoffrey Cox over his recent remarks about this being a ‘dead Parliament’.

When Cox left the chamber, I spotted him approach the Speaker’s chair. Their conversation was inaudible, but feel sure the AG was not wishing Bercow well for the weekend.

Later, Eurosceptic Peter Bone (Con, Wellingborough), who has fallen foul of the chair in the past, expressed not entirely convincing concern for the Speaker’s wellbeing and suggested he consider sitting out the big debates from now on, particularly the ones on Europe, to preserve his health.

Bercow managed a toothy grin and croaked: ‘ The expression “dream on” springs to mind.’