First thing MPs did, on hearing of the election delay, was give themselves an extra-long Easter holiday stretching over ten days, which most of them will turn into a long fortnight. That's the great thing about politicians: they can find a silver lining to any cloud, and usually one that doesn't have to be declared in the Register of Interests.

But they may not put the break to such good use. For the first time in the Strangers' Bar, I have heard "Blair must go" mutterings. Some MPs feel cheated, in order to save the face of the Great Helmsman, of an unrepeatable opportunity to get back into the Commons. There is also anguish that the PM is still listening to his twice-disgraced little helper, Peter Mandelson. They point out that the party has had to make Hartlepool a case for special help, despite Mandy's colossal majority.

Talking of Mandy, I see that the Donoughue and Jones biography of his grandfather, Herbert Morrison, has just been reissued. In a foreword, Mandy says his mother told him not to talk about his grandfather at school. "Partly, she disapproved of people trading on their families and she would always discourage boastfulness." Not much success on either count, then.

Cash-for-clips scandal discovered at the BBC. The producers of Auntie's Bloomers, which I take to be a humorous show, have offered £100 to Beeb staff for film clips or even "just a vague recollection of something not going according to plan" over the next few months. The bribe letter has also gone to political programme-makers, presumably with the intention of holding MPs up to hatred, ridicule and contempt once the election is safely over. Sadly, Auntie's Bloomers promises not to use any out-take without the written consent of the participants, which will rule out most politicians I know.

For sheer sick-bag entertainment, try Ann Widdecombe's junior Widdy web, which has details of the shadow home secretary's entire cat life. Jimmy, the big black cat, Tibby the tabby (who couldn't join the family in Singapore), Monty who died of cat flu, and Mitten the Kitten who "had a good life and used to like fresh liver". Sooty and Sweep became Westminster cats, and Sweep lived to be a ministerial cat before dying at the age of 24. Now, Widdy has a new cat called Pugwash. Evidently, the Tory dope-scourge is not aware of the double-entendre of the children's television series. Better turn to the My Cottage section, or Ann Out and About. On the other hand . . .

Tom Bower's lucrative pre-election expose of alleged Labour sleaze, The Paymaster (see review, page 51), was, by his own admission, written under deadline pressure. But you would think his memory would stretch back to 1979, when Thatcher came to power. Bower dates the fall of the Callaghan government to May of that year. It happened in late March. He is also under the illusion that the general election took place in June "amid widespread strikes". It was on 3 May amid widespread industrial peace. Michael Foot, dismissed as a "far-left activist" as if he were Dave Spart, appears in the index as Martin Foot.

Westminster continually throws up little gems. I was not aware that there is a Bishops' Bar, where the gaiters brigade presumably meets to plot the downfall of new Labour's election plans. It came to light in the Lords, when Lord Hughes of Woodside asked Lord Whitty, an environment minister, whether the mice in the bar have Crown immunity: "Or can something be done about them?" Whitty was at his pass-the-buck best. "I may have a residual departmental responsibility in respect of biodiversity," he offered. "But I think primarily it is someone else's responsibility." Clearly, he said, their presence was regrettable, "however much we might like them in other contexts". He should go mouse-hunting in the Lords kitchens, where the writ of the Health and Safety Executive does not run because the House is also a palace.

Paul Routledge is the chief political commentator for the Mirror

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