HENRY DEEDES: Michael Gove did one of his ‘there’s nothing to see here’ turns

For 45 minutes yesterday afternoon Jeremy Corbyn slouched on Labour’s front bench gazing at his telephone. What deserved such attention was unclear, but whatever it was it had him transfixed with wide-eyed wonder.

It was like watching a Japanese snow monkey marvelling at a tourist’s iPhone for the first time.

Mr Corbyn had come to raise an Urgent Question concerning last week’s resignation of Home Office mandarin Sir Philip Rutnam after he accused Home Secretary Priti Patel of bullying. But he might as well have taken the afternoon off.

The Tories are already a chancellor down, here was a chance for Corbyn to make them look mighty silly. Naturally, he flunked it.

He began his speech noisily but this did not last long. He huffed and puffed, but hard as he tried he just couldn’t seem to muster the requisite anger. Indeed, he seemed more irritated that the Prime Minister hadn’t bothered to show up. Had he known, Corbyn might have ordered someone else to table the question. Cabinet Office minister Michael Gove was the man sent to throw a fire blanket over the affair. The Home Secretary ‘ab-sol-ute-ly rejects these allegations,’ he said, his finger delicately drumming the dispatch box as he delivered another of his masterful ‘nothing to see here’ turns. She was a ‘superb minister doing a great job’.

Gove reiterated the need for the Civil Service and the Government to work together, which provoked a sarcastic chuckle from John McDonnell. Just hours later it would emerge that a former aide of Miss Patel had claimed to have attempted suicide after alleged bullying.

Back in the Commons, Corbyn had zoned out, wiggling his feet impatiently and toying with his phone. Beside him was Diane Abbott, similarly glum and disengaged. Occasionally, they would converse out of the corners of their mouths like two old dears on Blackpool beach in rolled up-trousers, contemplating when to crack in to the egg sandwiches.

On the other side of Corbyn was his education spokesman, Angela Rayner, shouting, jabbing and challenging Gove at every juncture. How Labour could use a leader with some of her energy.

From the Government benches there came a steady gush of support for the Home Secretary. Julian Lewis (Con, New Forest E) pondered how Margaret Thatcher might have coped had she been subjected to the same smears and sexism aimed at ‘the current Iron Lady in the Home Office’. There were queries as to what actually constitutes bullying these days. Martin Vickers (Con, Cleethorpes) pointed out that it’s now too often used to describe what were once known as ‘robust exchanges’. Gove agreed, citing former Labour chancellor Denis Healey as ‘no shrinking violet’ in such matters.

Others questioned if voters really cared about Westminster spats. Dehenna Davison (Con, Bishop Auckland) said her constituents just wanted to see the Home Office’s immigration policy implemented.

There was fitting discussion about Labour’s own record under Corbyn when it came to bullying. Mark Francois (Con, Rayleigh & Wickford) suggested Corbyn ‘remove the plank from his eye’ after his failure to tackle anti-Semitism within his party. ‘You’re the bully,’ he shouted. Siobhan Baillie (Con, Stroud) suggested the Government shouldn’t be subjected to stones being thrown ‘from the glass homes opposite’.

But the punchiest intervention came from Tim Loughton (Con, E Worthing and Shoreham) who accused Labour of remaining silent for years under the ‘industrial-scale bullying’ of John Bercow when he was Speaker, yet the moment allegations arise which involve ‘a strong woman who does not curry favour with their stereotype’ they go bananas. Suddenly, Corbyn’s face was momentarily distracted from his telephone. ‘Oh, come on,’ he groaned.

For a moment I thought he might try to attract an intervention from the Speaker. He paused and wrinkled his nose, before thinking better of it and returning to that ruddy telephone screen.