To watch Lord Mandelson before a select committee was to see a master at work. No, make that a grandmaster. “Happy birthday!” gushed Peter Luff, the Tory chairman of the Business, Enterprise and Regulatory Reform Committee.

“Thank you very much,” said Lord Mandy, caressing every word. “I can’t think of a nicer group of people to spend it with.”

“Ah,” cried Mr Luff. “You are in charm mode.”

“Well I assume I won’t spend my entire birthday here . . .” noted Mandy, newly 55, his eyes behind their wire specs casting round.

He was asked about stories in yesterday’s papers but insisted that he had not seen them. “You are ahead of me on the papers. I haven’t read the FT or any other newspaper today because I’ve been in Cabinet. So I really am behind the curve,” he said, his face betraying nothing. The man really does deserve an Equity card.

When asked about other stories - though the words Corfu and yacht were never actually spoken - he noted silkily: “I have had to put up with a sort of media narrative that has owed more to lifestyle journalism than economic and business analysis.” He said the word “lifestyle” with a wry, despairing emphasis that went way beyond italics and made it sound like dog poo.

But he didn’t stop there. “The only thing that has been absent from this narrative is the sex, drugs and rock’n’roll, but I’ve no doubt those missing elements will be rectified in the coming Sunday newspapers and I, of course, await it with bated breath.”

Mr Luff quoted Enoch Powell about politicians complaining about the press is like ships’ captains complaining about the sea.

“No complaint from me!” said Mandy. “I’ve grown to love them all, like my family!” His eyes travelled down the press table, a smile playing round his thin colourless lips.

The charm offensive was obvious but, my, Mandy is grand. “That’s way above my pay grade,” he noted at one point. Mr Luff shot back: “Nothing could be way above your pay grade.”

Mandy considered this. “Well, higher, then,” he conceded.

The committee was unhappy that Lord Mandy was unaccountable to MPs except when before the committee. Mandy, his voice slow and mesmerising (was he hypnotising them?), soothed: “I hope that you will help me, enable me, to remain fully accountable.”

But when he didn’t want to answer, he picked over the question like a vulture examining road kill. One MP noted that he’d said that David Cameron’s views had swung round like a pendulum. Mandy mused: “Did I say swinging around or did I saw swinging back and forth?” He paused, his timing perfect, then added: “This exactingly linguistic position is very important to me.”

By the end he had said a great deal and absolutely nothing. Indeed he bridled at the idea that he had confirmed anything in the papers. “If I were to spend my time chasing round newspaper stories, I wouldn’t have any time left for my day job.”

It was, truly, wonderful to watch if a little scary. But then they don’t call him the Prince of Darkness for nothing.

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