Monday

We don’t often get to see senior civil servants out and about in the wild. They are kept away from the public gaze, sat behind a desk trying to persuade their ministers not to do something too catastrophic to their government department. Quite why they have been been made a knight or a dame just for doing their jobs is one of life’s mysteries. The rest of us have to make do with the occasional email from the boss. But in the last week, two top civil servants have been reluctantly made to give evidence on Keir Starmer’s decision to appoint Peter Mandelson as US ambassador before the foreign affairs select committee and very instructive it has been, too. Not least to see how much they dislike any extra attention from the public. Their obvious discomfort at being held to account was excruciating to watch.

First up before the select committee was Olly Robbins – a Sir, obviously – who had been permanent secretary at the Foreign Office up until a week previously when Keir had sacked him for failing to mention that UK Security Vetting had given Mandy two red lights and recommended not sending him to Washington. Perhaps sensing that Starmer was desperate for Mandelson to go and had already announced his appointment, Robbins thought he could manage the risk. Now I’m sure that Olly is very, very clever. But for an intelligent man he came across as – how can I say this nicely? – a bit dim. Someone governed by the civil service manual and unable to think for himself. Because surely it was common sense to tell the prime minister Mandelson had failed the UKSV process. If the prime minister can’t be trusted with the most sensitive information, then who can? But Olly would rather get the sack than use his own initiative. It was the same with Cat Little – only a CB – the Cabinet Office official in charge of finding and releasing evidence to parliament who appeared later in the week. She too was a total slave to process. Unable to confirm or deny anything unless someone had taken a record of it. And then taken a subsequent record of the record. The more she spoke the less sense she made. It was an education of sorts.

Tuesday

Within hours of giving an interview to the website Politics Joe, Hannah Spencer, the newly elected Green MP for Gorton and Denton, was getting shot at from all sides. Her crime? To say that some MPs smelt of booze and that she was uneasy about the alcohol culture inside the Palace of Westminster. Not that big a deal, you would have thought. Many other people have said much the same thing. Only the reaction was out of all proportion.

Leading the charge was Nigel Farage, who is never going to let anyone stop him from having a pint whenever he feels like it. Other MPs from all parties joined in. “It wasn’t a normal job,” they said. So it wasn’t like drinking in other work places. And being pissed in the voting lobbies was just fine because all you had to do was make sure you stumbled through the right side. You didn’t even have to be able to speak. Some had a go at Spencer for just being a Green. Rod Liddle accused Hannah of class warfare in the Spectator. Alcohol is for the more refined classes, apparently.

My sympathies are entirely with Spencer. Though you might call me a puritan as well, having not taken drugs or drunk alcohol for over 39 years. But serving as an MP is a privilege and a responsibility. They are representatives of our democracy. Almost everyone else doesn’t get to drink at work, so surely MPs can also do without. Though it seems that some journalists can’t. When the gunman tried to kill the president at the White House correspondents dinner last weekend, most people ducked under the table and left when told by secret service agents. But not all. Several hacks were seen grabbing bottles of wine. Altogether 179 bottles went missing. At $76 a pop.

Wednesday

Shortly after 1pm, with the prorogation of parliament, centuries of tradition came to an end as the last 92 hereditary peers lost their seats in the House of Lords. Well, sort of. Keir Starmer has now allowed 26 of them – 15 Tories, two Labour and nine crossbenchers – to return as long as they give up their family titles and assume new ones as life peers. This apparent U-turn is apparently a bribe from the prime minister to encourage the Lords to expedite further reform. Watch this space. For some of those hereditary peers who have been cast out, it was an emotional day with long farewells to other peers and Westminster staff. Many are feeling distinctly hard done by, claiming they will be a significant loss to the upper chamber as they didn’t owe their seat to patronage and were therefore less likely to vote along party lines. And certainly, it would be hard for the hereditaries to be of less value than some lifers. One life peer who is less than happy is the 2nd Baron Inglewood, AKA Richard Fletcher-Vane of Hutton-in-the-Forest near Penrith. Two years ago, when his downgrading was first announced, he told the BBC he thought the government’s plans to abolish life peers was “crude”. “I don’t think anybody enjoys being sacked,” he said. “Particularly if the reason for it, which curiously enough seems to be the identity of my father, is not a very convincing one.” Er, yes. But his Lordship is rather missing the point. It was the identity of his father that got him the job in the first place.

That’s not to say all peers have no value. Some have made important contributions to the country. Just that they should all be prepared to stand for an election. And can be voted out by the people if they fall short of the standards required.

Thursday

By all accounts – apart from a slight awkwardness when New York City mayor, Zohran Mamdani, refused a private meeting – the state visit to the US seems to have gone about as well as could have been expected. Though we hear Charles and Camilla would much rather have stayed at home (Starmer told them it was a three-line whip), the king and queen appear to have played a blinder. Not complaining when Donald Trump pushes in front of them, not saying a word when the president tells the world that Charles is a “really good friend” of his. A feeling that is definitely not reciprocated.

Charles also bit his tongue when The Donald said that if the king had been prime minister he would have backed him on Iran. The king is just assuming the whole world knows that Trump is indulging his own fantasies. And Charles did get a few barbs of his own in during his address to Congress with pointed remarks about Ukraine, Nato and the importance of checks and balances on executive powers. We were also told that when he mentioned “the ills that have affected both our countries” he was referring to the victims of Jeffrey Epstein. Forgive me for having missed that. If I was a victim I’d have been hoping for a little more.

The most notable thing about the state visit, though, was the amount of sheer bollocks talked about it by royal correspondents on the news channels. Every action, every reaction overanalysed to death for a meaning that just wasn’t there. Because these state visits mean far less than monarchists would like us to believe. We haven’t cemented another 25 years of the “special relationship” just because Charles went to Washington and rubbed along OK with the US president for a couple of days. International diplomacy just doesn’t work like this. A state visit is just froth. The idea that Trump will be a whole lot nicer to Keir as a result of the visit is pure fantasy. Most likely the president will have forgotten about the state visit entirely within a couple of days – out of sight, out of mind – and resume his attacks on Starmer and the UK.

Friday

Spurs won a Premier League football match last Saturday. OK, it was a scrappy 1-0 win against the side bottom in the table who have long since already been relegated. But it was a win nonetheless. And worth mentioning because this was the first Premier League game that Tottenham have won all year. Yet I can’t help feeling this is too little, too late. A brief glimmer of hope before getting crushed by despair all over again. Because at the same time, on the same day, West Ham – Spurs’ main relegation rival – scored a late, late goal to win their game. So it’s as you were. Spurs two points adrift with now only four matches to play. This Sunday we are away to Aston Villa who are chasing a Champions League spot. Only a diehard optimist would bet on Spurs not losing.

I wrote a month ago that I was resigned to the possibility of Championship football next season. That I had made my peace with the self-inflicted wound of relegation. Only I now discover that was all a bit premature. I do care, after all. It’s like being in a slow-motion car crash.

I now just want the season to be over without me having to suffer the torture of the last three weeks. Not wanting to watch the games but knowing I can’t not. I’m almost certain the distraction tactics I’ve got lined up won’t make a difference, but I’ll give them a go. So if you’re in Cornwall, come and see me talk about the Westminster psychodrama at the Bude festival on 16 May. You can either take pity on me for my Spurs helplessness or take the piss. I’m used to both.