Petrified fucking terror. That’s the first thing you think when you look at Labour. A barely-concealed, buttoned-up, can’t-sleep-at-night anxiety, lurking just behind the eyes. They’re scared they’ll fluff it. They’re scared that in the white heat of the election campaign, the Tories will find some policy in their manifesto to weaponise against them and the whole thing will come crashing down.
An interesting peak behind the curtain and some cause for… what’s that feeling called again? “Hope”? Nah, it’ll not catch on.