O glorious day! O glad confident morning! The Prime Minister and his trusty Chancellor awoke yesterday feeling great. The world may be gripped by global economic turbulence but not Britain. Northern Rock had threatened our stability but no longer. Buying the bank was, they agreed, a brave and brilliant move. Northern Rock was no longer Northern Wreck but Northern Rocktastic.

They knew they had to spread the good news immediately, if not sooner. Gordon Brown arrived at his snap morning press conference with his smile hastily stapled on. Alistair Darling scampered alongside, right eyebrow tousled. The Chancellor had been too distracted to tame his turbulent brow beastie.

Mr Brown crowed his own praises. “We took the right decision at the right time. We made at all times the right decision.”

Alistair’s eyebrow (now waving in a lobsterish fashion) danced with happiness. “We made the right decision!” he intoned at regular intervals, a backing singer with only one line.

They eschewed facts. This was a “temporary” nationalisation but they wouldn’t say how temporary. Had the taxpayers’ potential liability in Rocktastic gone from £55 billion to £100 billion? Such details were not for this day of joy and congratulations.

When one journalist suggested that the episode was not, in fact, a triumph, Mr Brown’s lips formed a moue and said he did not agree. When he was asked if there was a profit at the end of this, he boomed back: “That’s entirely possible!”

And so Act I of the day ended on a triumphant high, at least for two men in Britain. After a brief interval, we rushed off for Act II, set in the “Edwardian Suite” of a Westminster hotel, starring David Cameron and George Osborne. They arrived in dark suits and darker moods. Most undertakers look happier.

“Let us be in no doubt,” intoned Dave, “about what a disaster this is. It is a disaster for the British taxpayer. It is a disaster for this Government and a disaster for our country.”

George adopted an expression that a Basset hound would reject as too mournful to be believed. Dave accused Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling of dithering and delaying. George scowled. Dave frowned. This was like a funeral without the fun.

Dave called it an “economic calamity” that compared to Black Wednesday. He looked like he might cry as he noted that he (who was Norman Lamont’s bag carrier) had learnt a lot from that fateful day. He began to ramble as if he was in therapy or something. Later, like a man who enjoys reversing over roadkill, he returned to the theme. His main conclusion from these musings was that Mr Darling must go.

So, he was asked, if you were PM, you’d sack George?

“I would reconstruct my government,” said Dave carefully.

Then the dramatic duo were off to the Batmobile for the short ride to the Commons. We all rushed to join them for Act III. There was only one star here. It was not Mr Darling, noticeably less effusive now. Nor Mr Osborne, waspish but not as deadly as the scorpion that he may one day become. Instead it was the beloved vaudevillian and Lib-Dem economist, Vince Cable.

Vince has argued for temporary nationalisation for yonks. “I am tempted to say that I could have told you so!” he chortled, adding, “but this is too important for that.” He said there would be job losses and difficult decisions ahead. It may not sound much but it was the most sensible line in the whole play. And so the curtain dropped on what will become known, surely, as Black Eyebrows Monday.

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