Questions from backbenchers dominated PMQs. Sir Edward Leigh is keen to end unfettered immigration and he announced a way to stop the boats that might actually stop the boats. ‘Detain all those who land illegally on our shores and offshore them immediately,’ he said. His specific goal was to prevent children from being shoved onto leaky inflatables crewed by emaciated refugees who paddle across channel at the dead of night. ‘End this callous trade,’ he said, citing the risks to innocent kids. No one could quibble with that. The PM agreed.

Sir Keir Starmer has quietly rebranded the Labour movement as ‘the changed Labour party’

‘He’s right,’ said Rishi. He then announced a different stop the boats policy that will never stop the boats. He turned Sir Edward’s central idea – automatic deportation – into a softer policy of free hotels, ping-pong in the lobby and writing out application forms in the hope of gaining permanent residency. Rishi called this ‘removing people who shouldn’t be here by removing the reason for them coming.’ A strange feat of sophistry. The PM had stated plainly that Sir Edward was ‘right’ but he then outlined the contrary plan.

Rishi wasn’t the only one playing games. Sir Keir Starmer has quietly rebranded the Labour movement as ‘the changed Labour party’. In recent weeks this phrase has started to crop up in his questions at PMQs. Not frequently. Just here and there. It’s like ‘New Labour’ without the fanfare. The Tories should exploit this subterfuge because it reveals a valuable truth about their foe. Sir Keir feels ashamed of his party’s heritage and he dislikes his grassroots supporters.

Angela Richardson, MP for Guildford, said that the number of chemists on her patch has halved. But she sees this disaster as a personal triumph. Her lengthy question gave us a fascinating glimpse into how Britain is really run. She said that two chemists have closed in her constituency and that their customers are now being served by a single outlet. And she credits herself and her inspirational leadership with this marvellous outcome. She went into detail. Her campaign to create a new chemist involved discussions with four separate groups including ‘concerned residents’ and ‘local pharmacists’. She then held a summit with ‘the ICB’, or Integrated Care Board, which is a gang of pen-pushers who get paid to create problems. She also had a bilateral meeting with ‘the minister’ at the health department. She didn’t name ‘the minister,’ perhaps fearing that he might have defected to Labour by the time she stood up at PMQs.

The end result of Richardson’s historic campaign is a new chemists ‘in Burford’ which replaces the two that have vanished. She beamed proudly as she made this announcement, while her admiring colleagues swooned and fanned themselves on the green benches. Which is all rather odd. Why does it take an MP, a health minister and a government agency to open a shop? Building a new harbour or a space-port might involve several different bodies – but a pharmacy? It’s just a family business run by two shopkeepers (who probably failed to get into medical school), which sells Calpol to mums and Aspirin to drunks. What an amazingly complicated process. And Rishi’s answer made it sound even knottier.

‘I’m pleased to hear about her success,’ he said, congratulating Richardson on overseeing the closing of two shops and opening one. ‘That’s why we’re backing [them] with £645 million for Pharmacy First so you can go straight to your local pharmacy.’ This huge figure is roughly equivalent to £1 million for each constituency in the UK. Using Richardson’s example, it seems fair to conclude that every new pharmacy will cost a million quid in subsidy. Perhaps the PM’s maths skills are over-rated.