Here’s to absent friends as waif-like Whately enters Commons bear pit

On St David’s Day, floor-crosser turned Assistant Chief Whip Christian Wakeford had been tasked with handing out daffodil badges to Labour MPS entering the Commons Chamber. It was as if the school sneak had been promoted to library monitor. Notwithstanding the host of golden daffodils on display, the mood was less Wordsworth and more “Winter is Coming”.

The Labour front bench was full for Liz Kendall’s Urgent Question about care home deaths; expecting blood no doubt. There was a distinct hint of Madame Defarge to Wes Streeting: all he needed was some knitting and a Phrygian cap.

Social care minister Helen Whately’s initial response sounded rather like the opening lines of a Wikipedia article. “Selected snippets give a limited insight into the workings of government,” she pleaded: as if allowing Matt Hancock to write a sort of Whatsapp would have been in any way more illuminating. Perhaps she’s right: it is said that with enough time and a typewriter a monkey will eventually produce Hamlet, ditto, one assumes, Hancock and a coherent policy.

Given the subject matter, Kendall might have at least concealed her glee a teensy bit. It was not to be, and she took great delight at peering over a pair of especially thick-rimmed spectacles at her prey as she rattled off questions: Torquemada as played by Ronnie Barker.

“We need more humility and less celebrity from the Member for West Suffolk,” boomed Kendall, carefully dropping the “honourable”. “And, above all,” she said, glowering across the Dispatch Box, “we need answers”. There was just one problem – the man in question was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, carrying the can was Whately, who professed herself “shocked and disappointed” by Kendall’s tone. Et tu, Liz.

Whately stuck to the same talking points, delivered in a tone of reedy indecision; speaking of the “practicalities of implementation” and arguing, again and again, that the official Covid inquiry would prove a better forum for a “reasoned” discussion. Frazzled, waif-like, the social care minister resembled a Victorian mudlark cosplaying as a harassed Apprentice contestant. “I’m sorry we couldn’t do the Covid testing task Lord Sugar but me rickets was playing up.”

Soon the heckling began. “People died … unnecessarily!”, “You were warned at the time!” screeched Streeting. A few Tory backbenchers hit back. The Rt Hon Sir Oliver Heald KC complained of “trial by media and party politics”.

“Shameless politicking”, cried Dr Kieran Mullan of Crewe and Nantwich. Mullan demanded an apology from every Labour MP who’d accused Britain of having the worst death toll in Europe.

I wondered if, at some point, Ms Whately might crack, and begin a well-deserved rant: “I hate Matt Hancock! Why am I up here defending him? He ignored my care home warnings and scuttled off to do I’m a

Celebrity... but not before handing over all his incriminating messages to a journalist!”

Instead, she simply reminded the House, once again, of the importance of waiting for the public inquiry.