Andrea’s a sneak whose heart is as cold as her hands

THE revenge saga is all the rage. From Medea via Dr Foster and Liar to the new Nicole Kidman movie, The Killing Of A Sacred Deer – even to the suspension of Trump’s Twitter account by a mischievous employee – we all find something irresistibly satisfying in seeing a nasty scumbag receive his comeuppance.

Which brings us, of course, to l’affaire Andrea Leadsom, in the Whips’ Office, with her murder weapon: antique allegations of inappropriate remarks by Sir Michael Fallon.

I loved Dr Foster etc but I have to admit I find this episode of political Cluedo deeply unsatisfying. Before I explain why, a recap. During the reckoning of ‘Westminster Weinsteins’ last week, Mrs Leadsom reported Sir Michael for making fruity comments to her back in 2011 or so. Among them was him telling her he knew where she could put her cold hands to warm them up.

Now, there could well have been more such stuff to ‘come out’ on Sir Michael, but it’s accepted that this Leadsom dossier was a proximate cause of the Defence Secretary’s departure; Sir Michael was still standing after the historic battle of the Julia Hartley-Brewer knee, but he couldn’t survive, in this fetid cli- mate, being chucked under the bus by the Leader of the House, a Privy Counsellor, and a woman.

I don’t deny that Pestminster has its share of sleazy, handsy, pervy older men. So do many workplaces. It has to stop. But were Sir Michael’s offences – silly, frisky remarks – really worse than Mrs Leadsom’s (fratricide of a long-serving Cabinet minister)? I know I’m supposed to accept that she was acting in the public interest. By turning whistleblower she was nobly helping the Government in its newest Augean task – ie stable-clearing the Commons of handsy old men. I’m afraid I don’t buy it. I know Sir Michael a little, and although he is prone to bouts of heavy gallantry, particularly when the sun is over the yardarm, I can’t imagine his remarks caused Mrs Leadsom, a 54-year-old mother-ofthree, undue distress. Anyway, if she couldn’t brush off Sir Michael, and fight her own corner, how would a former wannabe leader of the party deal with a Putin, Trump or Berlusconi? Let us, for the sake of argument, assume he had somehow upset Mrs Leadsom. Why did it take her six years for the former City battleaxe to find her inner snowflake and boo hoo about it?

I can’t help thinking that Mrs Leadsom chose her moment like a team playing its joker in a pub quiz – to double her points. She thought she could scuttle a rival and goldplate her own precarious position in Government at the same time.

UNFORTUNATELY, Mrs Leadsom is not the sharpest knife in the drawer when it comes to political assassinations, as we know from her attempt to wound Mrs May in the battle for the Tory leadership last year, when she drew attention to her rival’s tragic barrenness compared to her own blessed fruitfulness.

Look. Men do bad things to women. We all know that. I repeat, it has to stop. But what has been lost in this whole squalid revenge saga, and The Reckoning of younger females against older males, is this. Women do bad things to men, too. Even mums!

To me, Mrs Leadsom isn’t so much a brave whistleblower but a common sneak, bent on revenge and advancement.

I can’t help thinking on this Guy Fawkes day that Mrs Thatcher – a victim of a male plot herself when it came to her own downfall – would be turning in her grave to see the uncollegiate ruthlessness that undid her loyal servant Fallon.

I love a good bloody revenge saga as much as the next woman, but Mrs L has served her dish too cold, even for me.