Does Trump prefer Starmer's wife to him?

Spectator

7 days ago

The Trump Golf Course at Turnberry in Scotland looks like a middle-ranking complex for assisted living. It is all plastic double glazing, unfashionably bright flowers and ornamental balls. It was to here that Ursula von der Leyen and now Sir Keir Starmer had been summoned by the President to pay homage during the Donald's golfing tour.
Mr Trump appeared on the steps of his plastic palace, while Sir Keir and Lady Starmer emerged from their Land Rover to the sound of a piper. I can't say what he was playing. Traditional options include the Skye Boat Song or – appropriately – Cock o' the North. Knowing Mr Trump it might well have been the YMCA.
As soon as the Prime Minister and his wife arrived, Mr Trump turned his attention to Mrs Starmer, over whom he practically slobbered.
'She's a respected person over all the United States', the President said, in one of his trademark mad reveries. This conjured the image of the Prime Minister's wife being afforded that same respect across the United States. All Hollywood is a-chatter with tales of Sir Keir's Missus. New York cab drivers affix a miniature of Lady Starmer on the wing mirrors. Drifters across the great truck routes of Appalachia tell tales of her beneath the stars. On the remaining reservations of the Rosebud Sioux in South Dakota when they rise to beard the new dawn, they do so by saluting Victoria, the Lady Starmer.
Questions came from the press. What did Mr Trump think of illegal immigration? 'We are, er, stopping the boats', interjected Starmer, trying to seize control of the question before the Donald committed him to gunboats in the Channel. He spent the interview wringing his hands, every inch the Fleshy Grima Wormtongue next to the Mad Orange King.
Next came an even trickier question from Bev Turner of GB News – about the importance of free speech. 'I don't know if you're referring to somewhere specific', asked Mr Trump.
Until now, the PM had kept up a solemn pout into the middle-distance, while the Donald did most of the talking. Suddenly a look of blind fear swept over his face. 'We have had free speech for a very long time so, ermmmm, we're very proud about that', he stammered.
Just 'had' might have been more appropriate, given the advent of Sir Keir's Interweb Gauleiters to crack down on whatever it is the government thinks is 'extremism'. There was a squeal of piggy panic in the PM's voice. He knew exactly which country the question referred to, even if the President affected not to.
He needn't have worried. Mr Trump answered the questions he wanted to hear rather than the ones he was asked. A question about Israel became a list of other wars. Cambodia, Congo, and, crucially, the India/Pakistan conflict. This allowed Mr Trump to do his own bit on how nuclear fallout works. 'We'll get nuclear dust, you'll get nuclear dust', he said, turning to Sir Keir. Come friendly bombs, indeed.