... sees the Prosecco socialists hail the Supreme Court ruling

in the tower? not placed in the stocks and pelted with rotten nectarines? not even resign?

Stuff that, the mob responded. ‘Johnson out! Johnson out!’ went up the cry.

outside the Supreme Court, meanwhile, all the usual suspects – the SnP’s Ian Blackford, new Lib Dem Chuka Umunna, Caroline Lucas – were lining up to kick the PM. Blackford’s deputy, Joanne Cherry, was clucking louder than a battery hen.

The gloating gallery even posed together on the Supreme Court steps in celebration. That’s the Conservatives’ general election poster sorted!

The time then came for Speaker Bercow to roll away the rock from the lair in which he’d been hiding. Shuffling craggy-faced across College Green, he informed reporters that Parliament would be recalled the following morning.

he spoke in that slow, patronising diction, as though offering directions to a gang of clueless Chinese tourists who’ve just arrived from Guangdong.

There would be no PMQs, said Bercow, but plenty of time for Urgent Questions. oh goody. Another lengthy Dominic Grieve snoozeathon with which to fill my afternoon.

Someone finally managed to catch up with the Prime Minister. he was atop a Manhattan skyscraper by the looks of it, his mop hair flapping in the breeze.

hiding possibly. he didn’t agree with the Supreme Court’s judgment – surprise, surprise – but would be catching a flight last night to face the inevitable brick bats in the chamber.

Back in Brighton, Parliament’s early return meant that Corbyn’s conference speech, due today, was brought forward to yesterday afternoon.

he didn’t make his second appearance of the day until teatime, so clearly the script undergoing some heavy tweaks.

A reality TV singer called Jermain Jackman was sent out to rev the crowd up.

he sang a cappella for a short while, something about change coming. Cracking voice he had. how he wished he could have stayed on longer.

When Jezza appeared, he’d changed his mind from earlier in the morning. The PM must definitely resign, he said.

We got all the stuff we’d heard in John McDonnell’s speech the day before; those policies which would end bankrupting the country and bringing public services to a grinding halt.

We got class warfare, wealth bashing, a few out-to-getyou messages for the big corporations.

nothing in this speech was new. no hope, no aspiration. Just bile and recrimination.

There was at least a rare mention of his wife Laura, of whom we surely don’t hear enough.

NoW go forward to win an election for the people of his country,’ he said by way of a denouement. Looking out over the hall as delegates launched into further chants of ‘oh Jer-em-y Cor-byn’ it was hard not to think we weren’t watching a gathering of religious loonies from the Branch Davidians.

here remains a leader of an opposition with the lowest approval ratings on record. Yet they continue to cheer his name.

And so back to London, where the PM faces Parliament today.

I doubt he’ll have got much sleep on the plane last night.

But it won’t have been the opposition that was keeping him awake.