I do hope you’re enjoying the triennial Conservative party leadership contest, which has frequently resembled tipping-out time at Arkham Asylum. Various insane claims have been made – “Rishi Sunak is a socialist”, “Only Liz Truss can save Brexit now” – and the UK remains very much in search of a costumed vigilante to rescue it. Boris Johnson insists he will leave Downing Street “with my head held high”. But by who? Which of our hopefuls will be grasping that severed noggin by the famously unkempt hair, and roaring something totally questionable about public service?
We’ve already said goodbye to historical footnotes such as Jeremy Hunt; footnotes’ footnotes, such as Rehman Chishti; and verrucas on the footnotes, such as Suella Braverman. Making all the running is supposed cleanskin Penny Mordaunt, whose ascent from comparative obscurity to the office of prime minister would be like an arranged marriage, giving the British public and Penny all the time in the world to get to know each other after the event. The scale of the knifing operation against Mordaunt is laid bare by the anonymous briefing that she would make Andrea Leadsom her chancellor of the exchequer. I hear what you’re thinking: Andrea Leadsom? Chancellor? IN THIS ECONOMY?! But yes. Of course, of course. The second I heard it, given the experience of the past few years, I realised that I had long ago subconsciously accepted the inevitability that Andrea Leadsom hadn’t actually finished with us. In fact, I think I’ve … always known it.
