There’s something different about Mary

THERE they came, lolloping down the steps of the Dáil, Taoiseach and Tánaiste – all they needed was a couple of bowler hats and a slapstick routine involving a ladder and a bucket of water to confirm them as the Laurel and Hardy of Irish politics.

Our part-time parliament is not supposed to work like this, the big guy takes Tuesday and Wednesday and then rests while the number two staggers through Thursdays – what was going on?

Maybe all the rumours about Brian Cowen readying himself to dump Mary Coughlan have so rattled her she is now refusing to let him out of her sight so she will be able to try and grab the axe from his hands whenever it appears.

Or maybe the Taoiseach is now so weakened by the election rout and rumblings from his back benches that he cannot risk her doing any more calamitous solo runs and must stick close by to divert her catastrophic touch.

Ms Coughlan sat quietly next to him while he did her order of business gig for her. Usually a Taoiseach will happily cede this duty to a Tánaiste, even if, as yesterday, he is leading a debate immediately afterwards, so it appeared most odd.

Now, its difficult to talk about a female politician’s appearance without coming across all Sid the Sexist, so let’s start with the men.

Mr Cowen cut the usual debonair dash in which he looks like a Tullamore corner boy forced into a suit, and Enda Kenny maintained that strange look he has cultivated of an ageing boy band member crossed with a particularly wooden Thunderbirds puppet, but there was definitely something different about Mary.

She sat demurely, her head was facing down, but her eyes, surrounded by unusually heavy make-up, kept peeking upwards under the blonde fringe of new 1980s-style haircut.

It was pure Princess Diana circa that infamous Panorama interview in which she declared her political marriage of convenience was over.

Was Mary planning to do a Diana and get in first with her retaliation after so many tabloid rumours of rejection from above?

Perhaps it is now inevitable that she will give a tearful televised chat to Dobbo in which she declares she now knows she can no longer be Tánaiste, but hopes she will always be Tánaiste of our hearts.

Across the floor sat real RTÉ royalty George Lee, it was day three of kicking his heels on the back benches and it seemed that being stuck at the Oireachtas equivalent of the kiddies table at a wedding was starting to get to him.

He looked horrified as the TD next to him began ranting about local train services. This was not why Mr Lee “paid the very high price” of quitting his RTÉ job, this was not him “doing it for the kids” as he has continually told us.

His maiden speech had gone well, despite the fact he missed his cue, started late and loved the sound of himself so much he overran – which is apparently how he used to carry on at RTÉ.

But now the cavalcade is over he demands the spotlight of his front bench – just as Ms Coughlan rages against being dragged into the shadows of hers.