I hear that during the Rebekah Brooks trial the Attorney General sent a snotty letter of complaint to Ed Miliband. The government legal eagle was in a flap over a Christmas card sent by Nick Brown, showing captioned photographs of David Cameron (“In your jumper . . .”), a retired police horse (“In your stable . . .”) and the red top herself (“In private . . .”). The judge had kicked up a fuss over Brown linking a defendant to the PM, so the Attorney General ordered the Labour leader to remind his party’s MPs of the law of contempt.
The note prompted your correspondent to inquire if Cameron had received a similar warning after Dodgy Dave’s endorsement of “Team Nigella” came close to collapsing the trial of the former personal assistants to Lawson and Saatchi. A formal bollocking by the Attorney General would be embarrassing. To escape censure would raise questions about a get-out-of-jail-free card. I await an answer from Downing Street.
We’re fast approaching the point where no political gathering will be quorate without an undercover apparatchik, activist or hack secretly recording ministers and shadow ministers. Both the Tories and Labour (and perhaps the Lib Dems, too) seem to be infiltrating meetings of opponents with microphones hidden in lapel badges and pens. Labour policy guru Jon Cruddas was the latest victim of the dirty tricks war and I think it unlikely that “Dead Hand” Ed dismissed the critical remarks with tea and sympathy for the Brain of Dagenham. Miliband’s thin skin leaves him sensitive to criticism. I know of three shadow cabinet ministers who grumble they were admonished by him for raising mild questions about election tactics.
Colleagues of Downing Street’s Alan Partridge, spinner Craig “Crazy Olive” Oliver, have noticed that he has taken to wearing gaudy “loom bands” on his wrist. Rubber bands twisted into bracelets are reportedly among the most popular teen toys of the summer. Mr Oliver is 45.
A couple of Tories bit off more than they could chew by telling Albert Owen, the Labour MP for Ynys Môn, that he shouldn’t be sitting at the table in the dining room traditionally reserved for the governing party’s chief whip. Owen, a former merchant seaman and tugboat of a man who doesn’t like to be pushed around, informed the pair he didn’t respect the convention while Labour was in office and he had no intention of doing so for Conservatives. The two Tories sensibly dropped their objections.
Stop press: Miliband may be relieved that he is expected to speak at a General Council private dinner rather than to a hall full of brothers and sisters at this September’s TUC. It’s in Liverpool.
Kevin Maguire is the associate editor (politics) of the Daily Mirror