Ed Miliband is having a rotten few weeks. For sections of the press, the public and even some parts of his shadow cabinet, the political honeymoon is over. To make matters worse, so is his real one.  Welcome back to Britain, Ed, where opinion poll leads are narrowing, the IMF aren’t backing ‘Plan Balls’ and the government sails on, unimpeded by its mistakes and seemingly unruffled by the anaemic criticism of the opposition front bench.
 
On Wednesdays, PMQs brings our political process shimmying onto the centre stage – a glinting chance for Ed to bypass those flaky commentators and appeal straight for the country’s favour, soundbite in one hand, cap in t’other. This should be easier than it’s proving: the government, readers may recall, is implementing the biggest programme of spending cuts in decades. It is formed not of one party with a strong electoral mandate, but of two political groupings who whatever Nick Clegg might say, don’t like or trust each other. The cabinet contains half a dozen ministers whose careers lie paralysed, gasping for death in the twilight of the Whitehall Hospice. The government’s reforms of the NHS and criminal justice system – two of those strange, rare issues which throb with real electoral resonance – are in ruins.
 
The prime minister should not have won yesterday’s exchange, but he did so with ease. The prime minister should not have hopped effortlessly free from the molten wreckage of two terrible policies, but he did so without resistance. Ed Miliband helped him do both: he picked the right subjects but asked the wrong questions, in the wrong way. The problems in David Cameron’s in-tray are piling up – it’s just a shame for Labour that the leader of the opposition isn’t one of them.
 
Meanwhile, Ken Clarke basked in the rays of public prime ministerial favour, following Tuesday’s less convivial discussions over his reforms to criminal sentencing.  John Healey looked glum as he was subjected to another predictable slice of selective misquoting. And Sadiq Khan seemed to fidget with discomfort as David Cameron reminded us that Labour supported elements of the government’s liberal justice reforms.  Do they? Don’t they? Liberal? Tough? Nobody seems to know. If Progress readers can send the answer on a postcard then I’ll post you a Jiffy-bag of Alan Milburn’s toenail clippings.
 
As Cameron cantered home, delight shone out from the great round face of Patrick McLoughlin and his fingers twizzled a Biro in excitement. The great slabs of flesh at the end of the chief whip’s arms have hauled coal from the seams of Staffordshire, and for a second the pen seemed to buckle and bend in his grip. We mustn’t speculate on how many of the rebellious new intake have experienced those thick, rough hands on their plump, soft necks, but when it comes to PMQs McLoughlin has his charges roaring in harmonious approval.
 
By contrast, Labour MPs seemed muted. Most are desperate for their leader to start regularly winning the argument, in the chamber and in the country. Many still believe he will. But after another two u-turns go unpunished, and Cameron skips away from blame some ask in worried tones: if not now, then when?