QUENTIN LETTS: I thought Jeremy Hunt was making saucer eyes at your sketch writer… but his wife was sitting right behind me!

Jeremy Hunt shot off the diving board with an unorthodox, rather endearing honeypot. He began the Autumn Statement by bellowing, ‘Mr Speaker, I come today with good news. It’s my wife’s birthday! And unlike me, she’s looking younger every year.’ At which he gazed towards the gallery with moony devotion.

At first I thought the rascal was making saucer eyes at your sketchwriter but it turned out that Mrs Hunt, accompanied by their three young pups in school uniform, was sitting almost directly behind me. Most embarrassed she was by the name-check. Shrivelling. With the children digging her in the ribs.

Fifty-two minutes later the Chancellor had done himself, his party and the economy a measure of good. The speech zipped along faster than these things often do. Compared to that unlamented dud Philip Hammond, Mr Hunt was pep personified.

At times it was like watching a giraffe shuffle a silent, solo waltz across its bedroom. The tall and angular Hunt has never been the most liquid of orators but for once he spoke with grace and some effective humour. He teased Sir Keir Starmer by saying the one thing he and the Labour leader had in common was that they had both wanted to see a Jeremy become PM. In Mr Hunt’s case it was himself; in Sir Keir’s case it was J. Corbyn, at whose mention Starmerites shield their eyes and brandish garlic bulbs.

The Chancellor had done himself, his party and the economy a measure of good after his speech zipped along faster than these things often do

Labour MPs affected ennui. Rachel Reeves, Shadow Chancellor, had remarkably little to say. That did not stop her grinding away for 20 minutes and 36 seconds. Crivens, I felt each one. ‘The time is up,’ intoned Ms Reeves. If only it had been for her. Talking of ‘this Conservative Government’s economic failure’ she went full-Dalek. Ex-ter-min-ate! Ex-ter-min-ate! But what would Labour do better? Of that there was little hint.

The chamber was so full that Tobias Ellwood (Con, Bournemouth East) was reduced to the gangway floor, sitting on the sort of cushion spectators take to Wimbledon. Some teenagers from Ukraine had watched PMQs from upstairs but fled just before Mr Hunt started, the youth of Kyiv having suffered enough.

You always get a few show-offs with A4 pads at the ready, pens poised while a Chancellor recites statistics. David Davis (Con, Haltemprice and Howden) made tiny notes and tried to look shrewd. Barry Gardiner (Lab, Brent North) stood at a rear entrance, making a tremendous show of writing this and that. Head waiter taking table three’s lunch order. For all the sense the Treasury data made to MPs, Mr Hunt might as well have been listing the hymn numbers for Sunday’s matins.

On one side of him sat Rishi Sunak, less suicidal than in recent days. On his other was the Pensions Secretary, Mel Stride. Then Mr Hunt complimented Mr Stride. Being a politician, the latter nodded vigorous agreement. They do love to praise themselves.

Mr Hunt announced 110 measures for growth. Many were so technical, they could have been by-laws concerning municipal urinals. Even Mr Hunt admitted that one allegedly crucial cut was to a levy ‘most people have never heard of’. You don’t necessarily win elections that way. Tory backbenchers only cheered when he finally mentioned the National Insurance cut, but they also murmured approval for the plan to stop benefits to serial work-dodgers. That idea finally provoked shouts from the opposition.

Lucia Hunt, wife of Chancellor Jeremy Hunt, was accompanied by their three young pups in school uniform

Mr Hunt admitted that one allegedly crucial cut was to a levy ‘most people have never heard of’

A couple of Scots Nats started pogo-sticking with crossness. Sir Keir? Barely moved. Half-asleep, possibly.

Altering taxes that ‘most people have never heard of’ is what nerds do when they have spent too many late nights in the Treasury. A vulgar, swashbuckling politician would have gone for something more visceral and cut a really hated burden such as death taxes.

As one of the Hunt children departed the gallery, she shot a shy little ‘goodbye’ wave to her father. But he missed it, being thick in parliamentary debate about tax cuts, as he now will be for days to come.

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