Rayner plays while the PM is away and makes Raab suffer

While Boris cavorted in New York, indulging in two favourite hobbies – cloudcuckoo-land climate rhetoric, and trolling the French – Dominic Raab had been left guarding the homestead. But the new Deputy PM, Secretary of State for Justice and Lord Chancellor looked unmoved by his recent demotion. He delivered his lines with his usual bland efficiency – the interminable dullness of a Tim Henman post-match interview enlivened by occasional glimpses of Andy Murray-style surliness.

Squaring up to Raab was another who’d emerged from a planned sacking encumbered by even more job titles than she’d started with; Angela Rayner, Shadow Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, Shadow Secretary of State for the Future of Work, Shadow First Secretary of State, Deputy Leader of the Labour Party, Lord High Executioner and First Great Khan of the Mongol Empire.

Resplendent in her pretty frock – the kind of delicate floral pattern you might see in the revamped No 10 powder room – her Excellency could have been off to lunch at the Ivy, or quaffing Pimm’s at the Wimbledon Members’ enclosure. But appearances proved deceptive, for Angela’s game was class war, red in tooth and claw and waged with all the subtlety of a heat-seeking Cruise missile.

After blasting the PM’S inconclusive talks with President Biden – “Still no trade deal, Mr Speaker!” – she went for the jugular on the Chevening row, and Raab’s holiday in Crete. Did he know that a worker on minimum wage and Universal Credit would need to work an extra 50 days to afford a single night at his favourite resort, boomed Angela. “Maybe he should go back to his sun-lounger and let me take over!” she bellowed. This pantomime rough-andtumble may not suit viewers of a sensitive disposition, but it’s also one of Rayner’s virtues. Rare among frontbenchers, she enjoys every minute at the despatch box. Perhaps her rarest gift of all is that she can be trusted not to butcher a decent line.

However, with no shortage of potential ammunition, this seemed the attack line of a bygone era. Wrapping the major question – Universal Credit – in Corbynista envy politics made the pay-off seem more like mud-slinging. And just how much do people care about the cost of Raab’s holiday, so long as no public money was involved?

As Dominic Raab well understands, there are advantages to blandness. It can anaesthetise and neuter the Chamber, leaving onlookers with a general sense of competence amid the boredom, and little desire to hear more. Yesterday Raab had opted for the path of least resistance – letting Angela Rayner thunder on while assuming an air of mandarin politeness in his often inconclusive replies.

But rather than pin him down properly, Rayner usually preferred to move on to her next one-liner.

“I notice we have a shortage of hot air this week – but the deputy prime minister is doing his best to shore up supplies!” she gloated. It was a corker, if not entirely accurate. The Deputy PM exuded all the hot air of a deflated barrage balloon, fluttering limply on the ground.