Last night saw that rare event a tied vote in the House of Lords.  The occasion was an amendment moved to the Counter-Terrorism Bill on the minutiae of the authorisations required by the police before they can question someone after they have been charged.  The vote was 130 in favour to 130 against and the amendment therefore fell (in accordance with Lords’ Standing Orders or for that matter Citrine’s “ABC of Chairmanship”).  After this period of high drama, the opposition parties clearly decided to take away their ball (there clearly were not quite enough of them about to defeat the Government) and said that it would not be possible to carry on and debate the final three amendments on the Bill as they had not had time to be briefed properly, so discussion had to stop at 7.30pm even though it had been scheduled to continue till 10,00pm.  It later transpired that the real reason is that they want to vote on one of the three amendments left over and would rather do so “in prime time” next Tuesday ….

There were probably rather too many Labour colleagues around last night for the Opposition’s taste – certainly too many to risk a vote at 8.00 or 9.00pm.  However, this was not just because there was a three-line whip, there were also the added attractions of drinks, peanuts and pretzels in the office of the Leader of the House of Lords with the television tuned to CNN for the American election results.  We were all set for the long haul – apparently the Opposition weren’t!

Deputy Mayor Kit Malthouse is the subject of a double page profile in today’s ‘Evening Standard’. Underneath the inevitable full frontal photo of the great man in front of London’s skyline and the headline ‘I pray every day there is not another teen killing’ are two more pieces of evidence that underneath the steelly exterior a sense of humour is trying to get out.

First, having admitted to a history as a chartered accountant (in my view there are limits as to how far such personal revelations should go), he tells the following story: “A woman goes to the doctor and he says: ‘I’m terribly sorry, you’re terminally ill, you’ve got six months to live.’ She says: ‘Oh my god, there must be something that can extend my life.’ He thinks a while and says: ‘ Well, you could marry a chartered accountant.’ ‘Will that make me live longer?’ she asks. ‘No,’ he says, ‘but it will seem longer.’ “

Not bad, but I prefer the following:
“An economist goes into a bar, buys a drink, turns to those standing next to him and says ‘Do you want to hear my joke about chartered accountants?’ The man standing next to him says ‘I should warn you that my friend here is 6 foot 4, weighs 21 stone, played rugby for Wales, is a karate black belt and a chartered accountant. In addition, I am 6 foot 3, weigh 20 stone, was a heavy-weight boxer at college, am a Millwall supporter and I too am a chartered accountant. Do you still want to tell your joke about chartered accountants?’ The economist replied ‘Er no I don’t think so. I don’t want to have to explain it twice.’ “

And the second piece of evidence: the Deputy Mayor says ‘he is uncomfortable with the “Boris hit-man” reputation attached to him by the Home Office’. Oh come on on Kit, pull the other one – we all know you love it.