Johnson finally the bearer of good news, until his mute button mishap

Just his luck. After weeks of gloom, Boris Johnson finally had some good news to tell the Commons. Christmas was back on (sort of) – and 100 million doses of the Oxford vaccine were on their way (probably). Two chinks of light.

This time, perhaps, MPS would go easier on him. Some of them might even thank him.

Unfortunately for the Prime Minister, they couldn’t. Because just as he was beginning to field their questions, he vanished into thin air.

Being in self-isolation, Mr Johnson is barred from the Commons, and is instead obliged to address it by video link from a room in 10 Downing Street. Having delivered an initial statement on the next batch of Covid restrictions, he was attempting to reassure Mark Harper, a leading Tory lockdown sceptic – when suddenly, something seemed to go wrong with his laptop.

The sound died. On the giant screens above the chamber, the Prime Minister could still be seen, declaiming passionately away – but no one could hear a word he was saying.

Chaos reigned. “Prime Minister? Prime Minister?” cried the Speaker. “We’ve lost your answer… You’re muted! Have you pressed the mute button by mistake?”

The question seemed somewhat impertinent. Surely Mr Johnson wouldn’t have made such an elementary error. Not after all those technology lessons he was given by Jennifer Arcuri.

Still, whatever the problem was, it wasn’t going away. The screen remained silent. MPS started to laugh. The Speaker cast about in despair.

“I wonder if the Health Secretary would like to take over with the answering,” he sighed.

Abruptly the Prime Minister’s voice returned. “SOME PROBLEM WITH THE SOUND!” it yelled. Then immediately it vanished again.

Oh dear. Mr Johnson was clearly struggling. Someone would have to go in and help him. Except they couldn’t – because he was self-isolating.

And so, as per the Speaker’s request, Matt Hancock took the Prime Minister’s place, and attempted to answer questions about his boss’s statement. Ten minutes passed… 15 … 20. “We’re still hoping to reconnect with the Prime Minister,” said the Speaker, after 25. Another five minutes passed. Then another. And another…

Finally, 50 minutes after his disappearance, Mr Johnson reappeared on screen. His voice was back, too. At last – a successful reset.

“I hope viewers didn’t think I was trying to evade scrutiny,” he said, anxiously.

Questioning of the Prime Minister resumed. Up shot Sir Desmond Swayne. The MP for New Forest West is possibly the fiercest of all Tory lockdown critics. Which he now demonstrated, by glaring up at Mr Johnson’s face on the giant screen – and barking, “HE LOVED BIG BROTHER!”

His question wasn’t much friendlier. “The last ruler who told us how we may or may not celebrate Christmas,” seethed Sir Desmond, with a distinct hint of menace, “was Oliver Cromwell. DIDN’T END WELL, DID IT?”

Poor Mr Johnson. He must have wished his laptop had stayed broken.