Farewell realism's Rory Stewart – elbowed out by chancers and charlatans

Shortly after six o’clock on Wednesday, Charles Walker, the joint acting chair of the 1922 Committee, confirmed what most people had already suspected. Rory Stewart was out of the leadership contest, his support having haemorrhaged away. The Tories had looked the national interest in the eye and put the party first.

The one candidate who had injected some realism into the race had been sharp-elbowed in favour of a bunch of incompetent charlatans, chancers and jobsworths. Men selling impossible dreams to the intensely gullible. #RoryWalksOn had become #RoryWalksOff. Though his time might come again. Possibly even later this year.

As in the previous rounds, voting had begun at 3pm but this time there was a difference. No Stewart. Normally the Walking 007 is one of the first on the scene, patrolling the corridor, peering deep into the souls of wavering Tory MPs. Daring themselves to put their consciences before their careers. Almost always a pointless exercise, but it keeps him occupied. The place felt empty without him. The chronicle of a death foretold.

First of the candidates to appear was Ken Doll, Jeremy Hunt. Still composed, fixed smile in place. Still wearing his neatly pressed BA senior cabin steward’s uniform. How was he feeling? Doors to manual, he replied automatically. His campaign could do with an upgrade.

Sajid Javid came and went surrounded by his own team, like some kind of mafia don. Overnight he’d lost his principles, come out swinging hard for a no-deal Brexit on 31 October to win over Dominic Raab’s psychonaut supporters and looked all the more chipper for it.

Once the contest was over, he’d even have the sodding dog put down. He’d never much liked it, but it had been worth some votes. Raab himself looked chastened. But then anyone would if they were out on police bail in connection with the murder of five people, whose bodies had turned up in the Thames the night before.

Next in was Michael Gove, who has also perked up now he appears to be in recovery from his drug hell. The Narcotics Anonymous meetings have clearly been doing him a power of good. He has just about mastered Step One, his powerlessness over his unsuitability to be prime minister, but has a lot of work to do on his character defects. Where to begin with them?

Westminster’s very own priapic Mr Blobby, Boris Johnson, yet again said nothing as his courtiers danced around him, parading their undying loyalty as if to some Tudor king.

There’s going to be a lot of disappointed MPs when the inevitable coronation takes place in July. Matt “Gizza Job” Hancock was taking no chances. The former remainer, now hardline “Bring it on Michel, if you think you’re hard enough” Eurosceptic, proudly displayed the burner phone he’d taken into the voting booth with him. A photo had already been sent to Mr Blobby’s campaign manager, Gavin Williamson.

An hour later Walking Rory finally wandered into view. He apologised for his absence. He had been down in the tearooms, begging for support. Did he have enough? “Who knows?” he shrugged, as he had in the previous rounds. But this time he sounded as if he really meant it.

He was worried about one proxy voter, but thought he might have picked up a couple more supporters from Raab. And yes, he wished he had done better in the debate the night before, but it wasn’t easy when you had four mad people telling you you were mad. His Brexit plans may be just as unrealistic as everyone else’s, but at least he talked human.

Yet again, Theresa May refused to disclose how she had voted, once more telling a crowd of journalists to mind their own business. She must have been tempted to say she had voted for Mr Blobby. Just about the only thing that could stop Johnson from becoming the next prime minister was a gushing endorsement from the present occupant of No 10.

There again, the emeritus prime minister could just be sadistic enough to want Johnson to experience the full hubris of his ambition, knowing that he was bound to screw up big time sooner rather than later and that the Tories would be ruthless in removing him. She certainly hadn’t been in the mood to defend Mr Blobby’s reputation at a sparsely-attended PMQs.

After struggling to answer some well-directed questions from Jeremy Corbyn about Grenfell Tower – who would have guessed that setting up a public inquiry might not cut it or that private landlords might not be too bothered about dangerous cladding? – May found herself on the receiving end of a tirade from the SNP leader Ian Blackford about Johnson’s racism.

Several Tory MPs feigned outrage that a man who had made frequent racist remarks should be labelled a racist, but May merely demurred. Tory MPs had made it clear they wanted a racist fantasist as their next leader. They could reap what they had sown.