Labour doesn’t count, writes NICK FERRARI

As broadcasters are governed by rigid rules to ensure that the major parties gain equal representation in the run-up to a general election, when a party big beast is offered it is therefore quite rare to decline. So it was when Labour informed LBC’s team that Shadow Home Secretary Diane Abbott would be available to sell the party’s policing policy. 

What happened next has been well chronicled. In what has been described as “the worst political interview ever”, a flustered Abbott put the total cost at anywhere between £300,000 and £80million and then more than £500million. 

The number of officers to be recruited varied from 2,250 to 10,000 then rocketed to 250,000 and at one point their salary was going to be £8,000 per annum. This was more Russ Abbot than Diane Abbott and once the mixture of bafflement, consternation and amusement abated, voters will have been left with a distinct sense of ill-ease. 

Because this is a woman who holds aspirations to one of the four great offices of state. The police, security services and other agencies would answer to her – a person who is to simple arithmetic what I am to ballet dancing. 

Do you truthfully see her spearheading a blitz to bring down gun and knife crime in our major cities? Would you seriously trust our counter-terror brief to her? It is fair to say Abbott would struggle to understand a household bill let alone a government one. 

As Labour’s rivals seized on the bungling performance and justifiably pointed out that Labour’s “sums don’t add up”, a tetchy Jeremy Corbyn snapped at reporters that he was “not embarrassed in the slightest”. 

Bizarrely, that was surely almost as humiliating as was the interview in the first place. While no one would expect Corbyn to publicly lambast the hapless Abbott, his dismissal of the shambles spoke of the utter disdain with which Labour is treating this election. 

As did Abbott when she was confronted about her string of unforced errors. She blamed the pressure of doing a round of interviews for the mistakes (that’s called part of your job) and snapped that she was in control. What a strange way of displaying it. 

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PRIME MINISTER Theresa May nailed it when she said: “People are laughing but actually this is very serious.” Indeed it is. Labour supporters – some of whom are members of families who have voted for the party down the generations – deserve better. 

They deserve better than a leader who sneers with disdain over an appallingly inept performance by one of his key lieutenants. They deserve better than a shadow home secretary whose incompetence reached a dizzying peak. And they deserve better than a party so riven that many of its candidates are editing their election literature to ensure there is neither picture nor mention of the party leader. 

In all honesty we all deserve better, too. In sport, a good team has the ability to lift its game when confronted by decent or sometimes better opposition. I’ve seen that countless times watching Leicester City (did I mention last year that I’ve supported them for decades?) at football and watching England rugby at Twickenham. 

No one benefits from an easy ride and with the Conservatives seemingly on course for a triple-digit majority it is not unreasonable to assume that is what is in store for the nation. 

So it seems the number is up for Labour – the party that can’t handle figures. And with it a proud legacy of traditionally being there for the working man and woman will vanish into the oblivion of opposition for many years. Unless they can find someone to help make them “count”.

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WITH the disastrous performance by the party in the local elections it is hardly surprising to see Labour politicians out canvassing. Or, in the case of Ed Miliband, auditioning for possible future employment as an incompetent gardener. 

However, the true story of the night is the Ukip collapse. So its job is done and it is time to move on. But Ukippers can reflect on a position in history that will serve them well down the years: they forced that EU referendum.

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THE increasingly testy French elections will be reaching their denouement today as the nation goes to the polls in an intriguing election. 

Traditional parties there have felt a backlash similar to the one that produced a Brexit in Britain and propelled Donald Trump to the White House in the US. At the time of writing, EU supporter Emmanuel Macron seems odds on to win. 

However, it is fair to suggest that had Macron been a woman his campaign might never have got off the starting blocks. He and the likely next First Lady of France, Brigitte, met when he was a schoolboy aged 15 and she was his 39-year-old teacher. Within two years they were in love. 

Macron was despatched to Paris in a bid to split up the happy couple but Brigitte sacrificed her marriage to a wealthy banker husband to follow him. All very romantic but imagine if he had been 39 and she 15 when the friendship started. There would have been outrage at an old man taking advantage of a teenage girl. 

This, I suppose, is the real meaning of “Vive Le Difference”.

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DISILLUSIONED jihadist Stefan Aristidou and his wife Kolsoma Begum have turned their backs on life with their former Islamic State pals in Syria and want to come back to the UK. 

Perhaps they have tired of their days on the beach with their baby daughter being spoiled by mass beheadings, or their nights disturbed by the anguished cries of victims of both sexes being raped to instil discipline. 

They joined up with the murderous regime two years ago but their attempts to come back have been thwarted by Turkish authorities who have arrested the pair for suspected terrorist offences. 

Seeing as he is from Enfield and she from east London, neither of which – to the best of my knowledge – are under Sharia law, surely they would be happier staying out there?

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TO FULLY appreciate the news that Prince Philip will step down from royal duties after, quite literally, a lifetime of service, please turn to my friend and colleague Camilla Tominey’s column. 

All I would like to add is this: We simply don’t make ’em like that any more. 

Sir, I salute you.