Just as a preliminary note, Gavin Williamson was a terrible bully. Awful. He was just no good at it at all. His one accomplishment was in persuading people he had a talent for it. The spider on his desk. The creepy smile. The dead-fish handshake. The official positions he mysteriously acquired. But the vast majority of his techniques – the ones we saw in text form – were pitiful. Nothing he said or did needed any other reaction than, “Gavin. You’re a nob. Don’t talk to me anymore.’
That said – Keir’s first serve was a tempting lob. He said, with what pulp fiction writers call deadly emphasis, that Gavin Williamson “had told a civil servant to – slit – their – throat.” Many ripostes sprang to mind, none of which would have been, on reflection, prime ministerial. Guido smothered more than one snort of laughter and just as well, what with the pious silence into which the benches had sunk.
