What a brutish business politics is. Sir Keir accepted his fate with reluctant grace but towards the end the understated, bitten-back Englishness of it all became a little too much and his voice started to break. Damn emotion.
He gulped and blinked behind those suddenly vulnerable-looking spectacles. When he walked over to his wife she engulfed him in a hug. Supporters clapped but all Sir Keir will have been able to hear, I wager, was his own thudding pulse in his ears, and Lady Starmer’s soft coos of comfort.
The waterworks began, as so often, when the departing prime minister had finished
To provide well-rounded coverage and a breadth of insight across various events, we rely on contributions from several staff writers, each bringing their own area of expertise to our publication.