Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. The sun rose in the west. Hailstones the size of footballs battered the pavements from cloudless skies. Dogs miaowed and cats barked. Political journalists positioned outside Downing Street were in a frenzy of madness.

The BBC political editor, Chris Mason, ran down Whitehall, accosting strangers, demanding to know if they were going to resign. If not now, then when? Sky News’s Beth Rigby confronted Robert Peston of ITV live on air insisting he was mounting a leadership challenge. It was that kind of day.

Thursday was supposed to be a day of drama. When everything came to a head. It had not just been written in the stars, it had come pre-briefed from Wes Streeting’s supporters. This would be the day he made his move against the prime minister. He had the requisite 81 Labour MPs behind him. Everything was in place.

Nigel Farage had even postponed a speech in Sunderland. Never interrupt your enemies when they are making themselves look stupid. Though Nige might also have wanted to avoid questions on the £5m gift from a Thai-based crypto-billionaire. Come to think of it, he wouldn’t have been best pleased that it emerged he had bought a £1.4m house around the same time, which he is now renting out. Still, I’m sure it has a Chubb lock, so no problems with Nige’s security.

Only, for the entire morning almost nothing happened. Everyone but Keir seemed to think Keir needed to go, but no one seemed to have a clue how to do it. Almost as if Labour had set out to piss off the entire country. Having put the government on hold for an entire week, having primed voters for the inevitability of a change of prime minister, they suddenly realised no one had scripted the denouement. The final act was missing. The protagonists were brandishing knives, bathed in blood and trying to pass themselves off as innocent bystanders.

Still, we did learn that HMRC has a good sense of humour. Too often the taxman gets a bad rep, but first thing this morning Angela Rayner revealed that the tax dispute over her Hove flat had magically been resolved. She had paid the £40,000 she owed – Ange has been very busy on the after-dinner speaking circuit in preparation for this moment – and HMRC had given her a clean bill of health. No fine, no censure. Just the sort of mistake that anyone could have made. Though it still isn’t clear why she chose just to pay what she wanted rather than get proper advice. Maybe that’s a detail for the little people.

So the news arrived in the nick of time for Ange to play her part in the leadership contest. She was nothing if not coy in her interview with the Guardian. Blinking into the daylight for the first time in weeks. She didn’t presume to put her name forward, she said, channelling her inner Princess Di. But if someone were to do so on her behalf, then she might think again. Some are born great. Some achieve greatness. Others have greatness thrust upon them. Keir needed to think very carefully about his position, she added. So carefully that he resigned. And then if Andy Burnham were otherwise engaged, she might step forward. Under the circumstances, Ange sounded like a paragon of loyalty. Job done.

Then Westminster fell into limbo. Its own metasphere. Everyone wandering around, sure they were in the wrong place at the wrong time and that there must be something happening somewhere. But there wasn’t. Everything ground to a halt.

Ministers put their phones on silent and watched the rolling news channels. Some half expected to see footage of themselves watching TV. It’s how some of them know they are still alive. For a nanosecond, some people even took seriously a possible leadership challenge by the junior minister Al Carns, who has been an MP for less than two years. Then they gave their heads a wobble. They weren’t that desperate. Not yet.

Mid-morning: a statement from Wes. Though not the one we were all waiting for. A comment on the latest NHS figures. Wes wanted everyone to know that Wes was every bit as brilliant as he said he was and the NHS was in tip-top condition. Then back to silence. This could have gone on indefinitely. Wes, Andy and Ange circling No 10 but never making a move. Keir building the barricades ever higher. The Labour party in meltdown. The country in stasis.

Finally, at lunchtime, some real movement. A letter from Wes. He was resigning from the cabinet. And though he definitely had the numbers, he wasn’t triggering a leadership challenge. He wanted Keir to do the decent thing and resign. What was required was a proper debate on the future direction of the party with a full complement of candidates from which members could choose.

An olive branch to Andy: he would be given time to find an MP in a safe seat – or as safe as seats get these days – so that he could join the contest. And given that Andy was likely to win any contest, Wes was rather hoping he might be given a promotion in any future cabinet in exchange for his generosity. Wes had switched overnight from a short game to the long game.

Now it was over to Andy to find a way back to Westminster. And lo, late in the day Josh Simons announced he would be giving up the Makerfield seat he had won less than two years earlier. The Red Sea had parted for Burnham. We had yet to find out what was in it for Josh. Other than noblesse oblige. Keep an eye out for a peerage. Or a sinecure. Or both.

Meanwhile from Keir, we heard nothing, beyond that he was “very sorry” Wes had gone. No announcement yet of a replacement – it had only been a few hours ago that he had declared his full confidence in his health secretary – nor statement of intent. The thought that he had been told by most of his cabinet and MPs that he ought to set out a timetable for his resignation appeared to have only strengthened his resolve to stay. Soon there would be just him and Steve Reed, locked together in a death spiral, telling the world he was going to remain prime minister for another 10 years.

The madness didn’t stop there. It had been backbencher Catherine West who had kicked off the demands for a change of leadership. Less than a week later and she was turning up on Radio 4 to say that if Starmer was to take part in a leadership contest, she might well vote for him. The Labour party is playing with our heads. We are now all lab rats in some bizarre, highly unethical psychological experiment. Either they are losing their minds, or we are.