Speaker’s Statement

Lord Prescott

15:32:00

Before I call the Prime Minister, I should like to say a few words about our former colleague Lord Prescott. John was first elected to this House in 1970, and he served the people of Hull for four decades. He became deputy leader of the Labour party in 1994—my father helped on that campaign—and Deputy Prime Minister at the 1997 election. I have to say thanks to John for coming to Chorley to ensure that I had a new start as a Labour Member in Chorley. I will just share what John did. On that day, tragically, the press pushed an old lady over and her arm was broken. The first thing John said was, “I must go to the hospital.” He went to hospital to see that lady as her cast was being put on. That was the kind of person John Prescott was. John played a major role in delivering the Kyoto protocol and was a great champion of regional government, integrated transport and affordable housing. After leaving government, he became active in inter-parliamentary relations, leading the UK delegation to the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe. He was an effective politician, a highly respected colleague and a towering figure in the labour movement and in this House. He will be deeply missed, and all our thoughts are with Pauline and the family.

On a point of order, Mr Speaker. Thank you for those words, which John’s family will have heard. There are many Members of this House who serve their constituents faithfully. Some deliver change for the entire country. Very few enter into public consciousness, let alone public affection. But John Prescott achieved all those things. He was absolutely unique and people loved him for it. He had the most extraordinary life, from failing his 11-plus to stewarding Anthony Eden on a cruise ship, to being deputy leader of—as he described it— “the greatest party there is”, and the longest-serving Deputy Prime Minister this country has ever had. It was an extraordinary life, yet ordinary people across the nation felt that he was one of them. He told a story of a working-class lad made good who embodied the aspiration of working people across the entire country. People felt recognised in the struggles they had—the snobbery and the small-mindedness that still plague politics even today—but they also felt that he understood and championed their ambitions, their hopes and their dreams. John was a politician for working people through and through. That was who he always was. A proud son of Wales and an honorary son of the Humber, he served the city of Hull for 40 years, as you said, Mr Speaker. Everyone knew that he loved it as fiercely as he fought for it. Everything he did was about making working people’s lives better. That was evident from his whole career, a career in which he was often ahead of his time. He led on climate change, fighting regional inequality, supporting the minimum wage, working to transform public transport, building council houses and even completing the channel tunnel. In many ways, he set the path that we walk today. Make no mistake: he did things his own way and forged his own path, and in doing so he brought about some of the greatest transformation this country has ever seen. John was the linchpin of new Labour, because beneath the pugnacious exterior he was a skilled negotiator, sometimes with immense and perhaps surprising sensitivity. He had an incredible skill, which was the ability to bring people together from different starting points—whether that was in his work on climate negotiations or closer to home in his own party—to stand together in a better place. That sums up another thing that I think the public sensed about John: that he was not in it for himself. He was willing to work with people he did not agree with, as well as challenging those he usually did agree with. He had great self-awareness and great humility, and if he disagreed fiercely in private, he would do so and then defend the line—often improved because of his intervention —in public to the hilt. John was a team player and he was proud to play for team Labour. That was never more evident than during the campaign season when it was time to bring out the battle bus, a tradition that our Deputy Prime Minister proudly continued this year. The Prescott express was a morale boost to any campaign. It may have been arriving in a Tesco car park, but John was always met with a reception like Beatlemania. And no wonder: the public were at the heart of John’s politics and it was clear that the public had a particular place in their heart for him, too. That was key to his popularity. Indeed, after the famous incident it was the public who came out swinging for him. That night, Labour campaigners were anxiously dispatched to the most accurate focus group that there is, the local pub, to hear what people were saying. The reports were clear: the public had his back, just as he had always had theirs. Tony Blair, my predecessor, said simply, “John is John.” And he was. John was John, and he will live on in Labour legend, in the memory of everybody who is in this House now and who served when he was in the House, and in the affection of the nation. We remember today his wife Pauline, and we send our love and condolences to his family and his loved ones. We stand with the people of Hull and working people across the country to say, “Thank you, John, for a lifetime of service, for a genuine character and for a changed nation.” May he rest in peace.

I call the Leader of the Opposition.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. On behalf of the Opposition, I pay tribute to the late John Prescott. Lord Prescott will be remembered for many things: as a committed Member of Parliament for his beloved constituency of Kingston upon Hull East, as a formidable campaigner for the causes he believed in, and for his public service as Deputy Prime Minister. As I said last week, he was a true patriot and had a unique way of connecting with the electorate. Many of us did not know him personally, but his strength of personality was felt. For those of us who came into politics during the new Labour era, our experience of politics was shaped by Lord Prescott. He was a leading figure in making the Labour party under Tony Blair electable, after enduring four consecutive election defeats. In the process of broadening his party’s appeal, he ensured that Labour thought about the needs, values and aspirations of regular people across this country, not just those of a metropolitan elite. He was often underestimated, yet by all accounts he was an intelligent, amusing and relentlessly hard-working man with great political instincts. Although I would doubtless have disagreed with him on many things, I would have loved the opportunity to argue with him about making our country better. In paying tribute to the late Lord Prescott, I express heartfelt condolences on behalf of myself and my party, and I send sincere condolences to his family, his friends and his colleagues.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. I pay tribute not just to my predecessor as the Member of Parliament for Kingston upon Hull East, but to a family friend of over 50 years. In doing so, I send my heartfelt condolences to Pauline and the family. Many will remember John as a political giant, and indeed he was, but he was also a gentle giant to many. John always had time to chat to anyone who stopped him. Many Members will speak today of the great work he did both inside and outside this House, but I want to speak about the John we knew in east Hull, both as our MP and as a very dear friend, as he was to many. East Hull was John’s adoptive home, and it became a strong part of his identity. Everyone in east Hull has their own story about John, including those he helped, and there were many thousands of them. One of John’s biggest legacies in Hull is the £55 million regeneration of the Preston Road estate in the heart of the constituency as part of the new deal for communities. I am told that John was the person in the Cabinet who spearheaded that programme. I have had the great pleasure and honour of knowing John all my life. As kids we enjoyed family holidays with the Prescotts, and I still keep a picture on my office desk of me, JP and the family hurtling down a log flume. I keep it for a reason: because John was clearly enjoying it the most. One year, John decided that we were going to Loch Ness to find Nessie. We did not find Nessie, but we had the most amazing time, with memories we will never forget. During the voyage, Captain John thought it would be fun to throw his watch overboard to test our diving skills—as kids, we did not realise that John was an expert diver—but it sank too far. We began to panic a bit, but John, with a big grin on his face, dived overboard. He was missing for more than a few minutes, we thought, but he came up on the other side of the vessel, holding the watch with a massive grin on his face. John’s legacy will always be etched on the hearts of those he served and the city that he loved. There will never be another JP, and no Member of this House will ever be able to connect with the voters quite like he did. He truly was one of a kind. John’s spirit and approach to politics will live on in all of us who were inspired by him and by his dedication and commitment to the cause. Rest in peace, comrade.

I call the leader of the Liberal Democrats.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. I was never on John Prescott’s Christmas card list, but I did have the interesting task of shadowing him in the early noughties for three years, and I felt like I got to know him. My respect for him grew, though I was never sure whether it was entirely reciprocated. I would occasionally tour the media studios with him, and on one occasion John was getting his make-up on and clearly had not realised that I was outside the door. He said to his aide, “Is that bloody Liberal here again?” We spoke more in later years, when I was Secretary of State for Energy and Climate Change, as John always retained a deep and well-informed interest in all things climate, with his significant, globally recognised role in securing the Kyoto climate treaty. The Government’s chief climate negotiator in my time, the brilliant but sadly departed Pete Betts, had also been John’s key negotiator at Kyoto. Pete would tell the story of how John’s sheer energy and staying power were crucial to the success of those negotiations, and how John would tour the negotiating rooms throughout the night, uttering the great phrase: “I’m walking. I’m talking.” Our paths also crossed in the great city of Kingston upon Hull, when we eventually managed to get Siemens to invest in a wind turbine manufacturing facility for offshore wind farms. There was a celebration on the day when the first sod was turned to build the factory, and the reception was held in what is called The Deep—a huge tourist attraction, which John had played a crucial role in making happen, down by the marina in Hull. The Deep is the UK’s home to several species of shark. As we walked around it, being instructed about sharks, we were reliably informed that sharks can be very friendly, and though he would never admit it in public, John was always very friendly to me. He was a trailblazer and an inspiration, even plunging into the Thames in a wetsuit to make an important point about water pollution —exactly the sort of savvy, effective campaigning that I for one admire. John will be missed by very many people, so on behalf of bloody Liberals everywhere, I send my heartfelt condolences to Pauline, John’s children and grandchildren, and all his family and many friends.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. As chair of the parliamentary Labour party, I echo the tribute made by the Prime Minister and send our thoughts and love to John’s family. At the PLP meeting tonight, we will have a chance to reflect on his enormous contribution to the country and the party. As a former Labour organiser, I can tell the House that he was beloved by our members. They would move mountains in Wales to go and see him, although he himself said: “When I do die, after 50 years in politics, all they will show on the news is 60 seconds of me thumping a fellow in Wales”, The many, many tributes over the weekend rightly reflected his immense contribution to the country, which should never be underestimated: his drive to improve council housing; his championing of the minimum wage; his leadership on climate change—climate action before it was a thing. A true socialist and thoroughly authentic, he cared only about making people’s lives better. To go back to that punch, there are many others here today who were close friends with John, or who worked with him and knew him far better than me; we were, however, connected by one event, for I, as a youngish general secretary of the Welsh Labour party, organised his visit to Rhyl—clearly not very well, although he never seemed to hold it against me, and he did not get me sacked, which was an enormous relief at the time. There is so much that I could say about that day. He was a trooper. He went back inside immediately after the punch and did this rather strange comedy show at the Little Theatre, but I will not test your patience, Mr Speaker. The definitive guide is in Matt Forde’s podcast with Martin Angus, which I would recommend to all Members. For those of us in the background of the footage, it never goes away. Although John was right that the clip has been shown again a million times over the weekend, his legacy was always far bigger than a GIF. He will be much missed by our big Labour family.

I call the Father of the House.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. I served in this place with John Prescott for many years, and I admired him from afar as being a true Labour man and a man of true grit. I am not sure that my admiration of him was reciprocated, but I held him in great affection. My first memory of him was in 1983, when I arrived in this place as a new Member of Parliament. I gave a speech, during which I could see John grunting and looking furious. He probably thought I was an absurd, young, opinionated Thatcherite brat—and he was probably right. Talking of Mrs Thatcher, my next memory of him was when I saw him having a quiet supper in the little Members’ canteen we used to have downstairs. The moment my boss, Mrs Thatcher, came in, I could see John waving his hands in fury at her for all that she had done. Neil Kinnock leaned over and said, “Calm down, John, calm down.” I thought, “Here is a man of real strong opinion.” We have so many anaemic politicians today—I am not looking at anybody in particular—so it was wonderful to have a man like John Prescott on the Opposition Benches. John much mellowed and it was a great joy to serve with him on the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe. I remember him saying that his children wanted him to go on “Strictly Come Dancing”, but he decided not to. That would have been something for the history books—John Prescott on “Strictly Come Dancing”! As a local Member of Parliament, I pay tribute to John Prescott. I used to take my children to The Deep, and he did a great many things for Hull. I wish hon. Members could have watched Look North, our local television news programme, and seen the tributes paid by local people, who said how loved he was in Hull and how hard he worked for the people. He was a great man and he will be sorely missed.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. I was deeply saddened to hear about the death of John Prescott. I send my condolences to Pauline, his sons and all those who were close to him. I considered him to be a good friend of mine and of Mansfield. He was a giant of a man and a champion of the coalfields, devolution, local government and climate action. I first met John in the 1980s, as an activist in the Labour party, and enjoyed supporting him in his first campaign to be deputy leader in 1988, and in his campaign to be leader and deputy leader in 1994. His legacy includes setting up the Coalfields Regeneration Trust, which was established to help support former coalfield areas in communities such as Mansfield that had been impacted by the pit closure programmes of the 1980s and 1990s. That helped ensure that my area received millions of pounds of funding. John had a particularly strong link to my constituency of Mansfield, especially through my Labour predecessor, Sir Alan Meale, who was his parliamentary private secretary for some years. Anecdotally, I can recall many endearing memories of John, including a time when we were playing table tennis in Sir Alan’s front yard in Mansfield. It was a lovely sunny day and we were enjoying our game in the garden, on a day when the Prime Minister was out of the country on business. An important call came through that John had to take, and we paused our game. To this day, I have no idea who it was or what was said, but the conversation clearly distracted John so much that when he arrived back, he hit the ball with such force that it bounced right off the table and hit the ministerial car. From that experience, I can assure the House that the left hook still packed a mighty punch. In the years after John left office, I would often drive him back to the station at Newark or Doncaster after his many visits to Mansfield, so he could get the train to London or back home to Hull. The insights from his frank and honest recollections of history from the Blair and Brown years will stay with me for a very long time. May he rest in peace.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. When I first arrived in the House, it was common in the Conservative party—the Thatcherite Conservative party, I say to my right hon. Friend the Member for Gainsborough (Sir Edward Leigh)—to view John Prescott as public enemy No. 1. It was an act that he loved playing into, in public at least. That being said, outside the studio or the Chamber, he was friendly and helpful, certainly to me. Indeed, he was almost the best possible constituency neighbour one could want. John Prescott was quintessentially a working-class hero—an identity that I suspect the current Deputy Prime Minister also adopts. Of course, he was a brilliant constituency ally and a forceful defender of the interests of the people of Hull, with the emphasis on force. However, he was also a necessary champion of the new Labour party. The Prime Minister referred implicitly to the fact that John Prescott delivered one man, one vote. We should remember that it was an act of huge courage for him to take on his own union allies, I think at about one hour’s notice, and persuade them to support the neophyte Tony Blair. Frankly, despite the snobbery of the London establishment about John Prescott’s education, it was a very unwise person who underestimated his intellect. He was a formidable and brilliant innovator on—I am looking at the Environment Secretary—the environment, on Europe, on devolution and on a whole range of things. He was what we would all hope to be: not a creature of history, but a changer of history. For that, we should always admire him. To put to one side all those grand things, he was also greatly, greatly loved by his family. On that basis, I offer my condolences to Pauline and the rest of the family.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. I want to add my own few words to the tributes that have been made, and especially to welcome the comments from my hon. Friend the Member for Kingston upon Hull East (Karl Turner), which were so warm and personal. John Prescott’s great many achievements—his commitment to climate change and other matters—have already been spoken of. He was a truly authentic working-class hero, and somebody who always attracted a crowd wherever he went. He persevered with his famous battle bus through good times and poorer ones. What may sometimes be missed is his commitment to devolution, and the great efforts he made in the north-east of England, where he committed to the campaign for a north-eastern assembly. We were not successful on that occasion—the referendum was not won—but, ultimately, John’s legacy prevails in the devolved institutions and authorities that we have seen ever since. On a personal note, I want to put on record my thanks to John for his personal support to me. I found myself propelled on to the shadow Front Bench a little bit prematurely and unexpectedly, but he was of great support to me in discharging the transport brief. He retained such immense knowledge, and on every single occasion he offered encouragement, for which I will be eternally grateful. He was a true giant of the Labour movement. We will miss him enormously, but his legacy remains. I, too, pass on my sincere condolences to Pauline and to all his family.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. On behalf of the Scottish National party, I pass on our sincerest condolences to Pauline, to John’s family and to his many friends, colleagues and comrades right across the Labour movement. You have lost a colossus of a man, and an inspiration to working-class people right across the United Kingdom who were encouraged by his example to go into politics. I remember coming down here as a new MP in 2001 and observing the Labour Front Bench—titans, all of them, and all known to the UK public, but dominant among them was John Prescott, and it was John Prescott the public wanted to hear from. When he appeared on the TV screens, the public paid attention and listened to what he had to say. He resonated with the British public, who held him in a curious affection. If what he had could have been bottled, I am sure we would all take a little sup of it today. I will never forget where I was, as a candidate in 2001, when that famous incident came in that the hon. Member for Newport East (Jessica Morden) referred to—who could? I think we all know where we were. I was with a bunch of sixth-formers at a hustings at Brechin high school, and one of the senior pupils said to me, “If it’s like that every day in your political life, I want a bit of that.” There’s inspiration for you, Mr Speaker. John was a huge music fan and a great supporter of our music act, MP4. We could never quite master the jazz that he seemed to favour—although maybe as a tribute to him we will get round to doing one of those numbers—but it was something he completely loved. Everyone has talked about John’s commitment to climate change, but there was also his commitment to devolution, which a few colleagues have mentioned. John Prescott was the engine who drove that path towards a Scottish Parliament and the regional assemblies which will be happening as a matter of course with this new Labour Government. John was part of a generation that we are sadly beginning to lose, but he will stand out as one of the true great parliamentarians in this House of the past few decades and we will all miss him dearly.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. It is wonderful to hear all the various tributes to John and I wanted to share my own memories of him. As some have mentioned, when it came to campaigning, his big thing was his battle bus—who would not love touring the country eating sweets with Martin Angus? I am sure my right hon. Friend the Member for Ashton-under-Lyne (Angela Rayner) will attest to that. I have my own memory of John’s battle bus from after the 2005 election. He got a small group of us together and we toured London as commuters were on their way to work, at around 7.30 or 8 o’clock in the morning. John was on the tannoy thanking them all individually for voting Labour and for another five years of a Labour Government. Watching people literally stop in the street, confused that a bus was talking to them, only to discover that it was actually the Deputy Prime Minister talking to them, was incredible. John then took us all to his flat, where, despite having had no sleep at all, he made us bacon sandwiches and tea. That was John at his best: generous, indomitable and completely unpredictable. John’s incredible achievements and those of that Labour Government will stand the test of time. He was the cement that kept the broad church of those New Labour Governments together and we will always remember him for that. I also want to say that last year my father died of Alzheimer’s, and it was very difficult, in those early days, to remember the man who was, before that cruel disease took him away. I really do hope that Pauline and John’s family are listening to the wonderful tributes that are being paid here in this House and around the country, so that they can remember the extraordinary man that John was and the extraordinary life that he lived.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. I first collided—if that is the right word—with John Prescott when I was shadow Secretary of State for Transport as he ploughed on with his integrated transport plan, which was one of the centrepieces of the first Blair Administration. I found that some of my colleagues tried to treat John Prescott as a bit of a joke. That was a mistake. Yes, we teased him about his two Jags, and he rather loved that, but he was utterly sincere in what he did, passionate, and pretty brutal with his Opposition opponents when he felt he was on top. We clashed again over the proposals for regional assemblies. Great campaigner though he was, he lost the north-east referendum, and I do not think he ever really forgave me for that. When required, however, John could be a great statesman. He was right to insist on a public inquiry into the Marchioness disaster, which the previous Government had refused to hold, and he was right immediately to announce an inquiry into the Paddington rail disaster as soon as it happened. I recall getting one of the most surprising telephone calls of my political life when, having told the Conservative conference that he was right to call that public inquiry and that we should wait for its outcome, I got a call from him to thank me for that bit of bipartisanship—something even he was capable of when the cameras were not looking. I pay tribute to John for that, because the Cullen inquiry came up with a completely new safety regime for rail, including a rail accident investigation branch for the Department for Transport. We have not had a public inquiry into a rail accident ever since, because of the safety regime that he implemented following the inquiry. Every survivor of the Paddington rail crash and subsequent rail crashes is grateful to him for what he did for passenger safety on our railways. If for nothing else, we should remember him for that. I send my best wishes to John’s family and to all his friends and colleagues on the Government Benches at this sad time.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. I will share two particular memories of Lord Prescott. The first is from my time working for the disability charity Scope. We had decided as a campaigns team to use the 1997 general election to highlight the many obstacles that disabled people faced when exercising their democratic right to vote. I and my campaign colleagues devised the “Polls Apart” campaign, which included a special campaign pack for candidates. Bearing in mind that this was in the halcyon days before email, a campaign pack was something of a rarity. We printed, stapled and posted out hundreds of packs to candidates the length and breadth of the UK, including one to the Labour candidate for Kingston upon Hull East. Off it went, sent second class. To our amazement, a week or so later, a reply came back saying that Mr Prescott not only supported the campaign, but had written to all of Labour’s candidates in his capacity as the general election co-ordinator, instructing them to take the campaign actions that our pack suggested. More than that, when Labour was elected a few weeks later, he brought forward amendments to the Representation of the People Act to make it easier for disabled people to exercise their right to vote. I had met John Prescott a few years before that, when I worked for the then Member of Parliament for Streatham, the right hon. Keith Hill. Both John and Keith were members of the RMT parliamentary group, which was as broad and diverse as its talent was deep. I asked Keith ahead of my remarks today if he had any particular memories of John that I might share with the House, and he told me of one from his time as a Minister in the Office of the Deputy Prime Minister. John and Keith were due to make a presentation on Labour’s housing growth areas to the Prime Minister, Tony Blair, in the Cabinet Room one morning at 9 am. At 4 am, John was still working on the presentation. He decided that he needed to know about the rail connections between Cambridge and Oxford, so he phoned Network Rail. Members can doubtless imagine the startled reaction of the poor Network Rail official who answered that call at 4 o’clock in the morning from someone claiming to be the Deputy Prime Minister, who had a very specific question about east-west rail links. Tony Blair was equally amazed at 9 am. “And did he tell you what the rail connections are?”, asked the PM. “There aren’t any,” replied John—“We’re going to change that.” Now, thanks to the Budget, that change will finally be delivered—a fitting tribute, perhaps, to the work ethic, energy and enthusiasm for change that John Prescott exemplified.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. My condolences to Pauline and all of John’s family at what must be a truly devastating time for them. David used to work in my office, and he sent me a message just after John died. He was very close to his father and saw him as his hero and his friend. We send our condolences to all of them. I obviously knew John in the House for many years. When he was first elected along with Dennis Skinner, they shared a flat in Clapham. I do not know what went on in that flat, but while they were good friends, they were very different characters. I later learned that after the last vote took place in the House, Dennis and John would both leave to go back to the flat, but they never travelled together. Dennis always made sure that he got there first, so that he could get hold of the one television in the flat, turn it on and watch the darts, the snooker or whatever else. John would turn up and want to watch “Newsnight”, and Dennis refused to change the channel—he would say, “No way. You’ll watch the darts with me.” You can imagine the repartee and the arguments that would have gone on between them, which would have been incredibly funny. In the 2017 election, John offered to help in any way he could, and he was fantastic. We did several events together. One day, we started in Hull in the morning with the launch of our arts manifesto, and then went on a tour all around Yorkshire and Humberside in the famous bus. John seemed to know the owner of every fish and chip shop in the whole of Yorkshire, and insisted on stopping at every one, so we had a big supply of fish and chips all day long. Then we got to Scarborough, where we were doing a rally in the pavilion by the seafront. John and I got up to speak on the stage, and I do not think a lot of the people there realised that a political rally was going on. They thought they were just there enjoying the sunshine, and then these two guys got up on the stage and started talking. The people loved John, because he brought out Freddie the fox. We had a long discussion about the evils of foxhunting—the evils of Tory foxhunting. “The Tories are always going to bring back foxhunting. The Tories would kill the fox.” Then he pulled Freddie out of his coat and said, “Look at poor Freddie here. They’re going to tear him apart. That’s what the Tories do to you.” He was loved for all of that. I want to say thank you to John for what he did, but also to remember that one of the crucial points in his political career was the issue of climate change and Kyoto. It was not easy, popular or normal; a lot of people refused to even consider what we are doing to the natural world and the environment, and how there are limits to what we can do, hence the protocol that John negotiated and signed up to. He was one of the people who was very important in starting to change the global debate about climate change and respect for the natural world and the environment. We should all say thank you to John Prescott for that.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. The first time I met John Prescott in his role as Deputy Prime Minister was in 1997, when he opened up Admiralty Arch to 60 young homeless people as part of the winter shelter programme. It was a bitterly cold winter, and at the time, the Conservative Back Bencher Crispin Blunt said that this project would be treating a historic building as if it were a “flagship for undesirables”. Given that John was frequently described as an undesirable by many of his opponents throughout his life, he took that as a badge of honour, and he was really proud of that homelessness project. I will never forget the way he shared breakfast with those rough sleepers and took a real interest in every one of their lives. It was a testimony to his compassion, his practical politics, and his unwavering commitment to housing policy. Many millions of council tenants saw home improvements—new windows, new doors and home insulation—and none of them will ever forget that. Those are the basics that many of us take for granted, but which far too many people lacked at the time. In a superb biography by my late former colleague on The Independent, Colin Brown, naturally entitled “Fighting Talk”, there was a lovely and telling quote from John: “There are those priests of the Left who want to keep their consciences and there are those who will get their hands dirty. I belong to the dirty hands brigade.” John was regularly patronised and frequently under-estimated, but he had the last laugh by delivering for real working people. For that, we are all grateful.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. In the last six months of 2005, the United Kingdom took over the rotating presidency of the European Union, and Prime Minister Blair wanted to make a big success of it. One of his concerns was that there was a young British MEP who was prone to behaving very badly in the Chamber and being particularly rude to visiting Heads of State, so John Prescott was sent to see me. He himself, of course, had served as an MEP and was a big project supporter—he loved everything about the European Union—so he came to explain to me that it would be very bad for Britain if I were to stand up and cause a scene when Prime Minister Blair was speaking. I will not say that he threatened me, but I certainly felt deeply intimidated and behaved myself impeccably over the course of the next six months. That was the bruiser John Prescott perhaps. A couple of years later, on Remembrance Sunday, when the ceremony was over and the parades had finished, I was walking up Whitehall and there, to my astonishment, walking on his own and without any security, was the Deputy Prime Minister. I said hello and wondered what he was doing. John had seen a group of Arctic convoy veterans on the other side of Whitehall. A seafarer himself, he had gone over to speak to the men who had endured such appalling hardship during the last couple of years of the war, and said to them, “I’m going to fight to make sure that you guys get a campaign medal after all these years, recognising what you’ve done.” They did get the medal, and I got the message. I understood why he had been so phenomenally successful from humble roots: he connected, he got on with people and he was very human. We mourn his passing, but perhaps we also mourn the passing of big working-class characters in politics. We need far more of them.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. As you well know, John had many connections with the north-west of England. He went to school on the Wirral. He was a parliamentary candidate in Southport, and he returned there to campaign in the 2017 general election. He was a seafarer out of Liverpool, and he was presented with a trophy by Anthony Eden, whom the Prime Minister mentioned. The trophy was for winning a boxing bout on board ship, and it was there that he honed the craft that may have led to what he was known so famously for later on. When I came here in 2010, I bumped into John in the Committee corridor, where he was sitting at a desk working. He said he was there because, despite being a former Deputy Prime Minister, he had to share an office with four other Members of the House of Lords—he had recently been ennobled—and he moaned about the fact that there was no preferential treatment for him. However, despite the moan, he was getting on with the job, as John always did. My favourite story of him is when, during the 2010 election campaign, the battle bus turned up on grand national day outside Aintree racecourse. He had a campaign to keep the grand national free-to-air on terrestrial TV, and there he was with his loudspeakers haranguing the racegoers to come and sign his petition, which they did in droves. Not only did they sign the petition, but they queued in large numbers for selfies with John. That goes to the point about the affection in which he was held, and the impression that John made that day will stay with me forever. When I came here and was serving in this place, as he was serving in the Lords, he was a source of terrific advice to me, and I am proud to have counted John as a friend over the years. I send my best wishes to Pauline, David and the rest of his family. May John rest in peace.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. When I was elected for Beverley and Holderness in 2005, John Prescott, the MP for neighbouring Kingston upon Hull East, was of course already a legend. He was the word-mangling, fast-fisted former bar steward who had, for the last eight years, been Deputy Prime Minister of this United Kingdom. Hearing the tributes from across the House and all the ways in which that one man was able to influence history and make a difference is, I hope, an inspiration to aspirant working-class politicians all over the country, but also to people in this House. I knew John from a few years before I entered Parliament. He came to Cambridge for a transport summit, so I organised a demonstration against it and stood outside all day. The day went on and he did not come out. When eventually he did come out, I was just about the only demonstrator left. I immediately berated him and his entourage, and we had a surreal dance around the car park, before he went up to a Jaguar and tried to get in: it was not his. I think it took him quite some time to forgive me for that. I regularly saw John—as did colleagues from Hull, such as the right hon. Member for Kingston upon Hull North and Cottingham (Dame Diana Johnson), who is sitting on the Government Front Bench—on Hull trains, and he was normally surrounded by papers at a four-place table that he was trying to keep entirely to himself. Although he was gruff, he was also engaging. He would often come to Beverley, when Pauline would go shopping and he would go to the Royal Standard pub, the finest establishment in Beverley, where he was always very welcome, and people to this day hold him in the highest regard. As has been remarked, he led our delegation to the COP at Kyoto in 1997, and was widely regarded as the key element in delivering its historic outcome, the first time an international agreement was made to recognise and cut climate emissions. The former US Vice-President Al Gore said that he had “never worked with anyone in politics…quite like John Prescott.” John continued to take climate issues seriously, and we would have passionate and rather loud conversations on the train as we went to and fro from east Yorkshire. When I led our delegation to last year’s COP, the first to commit to phasing out fossil fuels, I knew my team and I were following in the footsteps of someone who may have come from a humble background but went on to change the world.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. Over two months ago, I rose to give my maiden speech in this Chamber, opening with a comical line about one of my constituency’s most famous sons, Lord John Prescott. Although I am sad to be commemorating his passing today, it is important to reflect on the indelible mark that he has left on British politics. A formidable character, John Prescott was a political giant but never stopped being one of us: an ordinary, down-to-earth, working-class man. The ambitions of John and others for communities like his as part of a trailblazing Labour Government are the reason why so many of us are here today. Often underestimated by both his political allies and enemies, he was the glue that held the Labour Government together and saw it deliver so much. Personally, I knew him little more than as an overly keen teenager at Labour party conference asking for a selfie with a political hero —he did oblige, although in his customary unimpressed fashion—but his impact on me and so many on the Labour Benches has been huge. On behalf of the people of Clwyd East, I say a fond farewell to one of our own, a treasured son of north Wales, a political trailblazer, and a true one-off. My thoughts are with Pauline and his family.

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. I want to add to all the warm tributes to John. I got to know him and encountered him outside of a political context. It is a matter of record that towards the end of his time as Deputy Prime Minister he had several bouts of ill health and was admitted to hospital on a couple of occasions, and he was admitted to the critical care unit where I was a nurse at the time. He made an incredible impression on me and my fellow staff. He was a really great patient, which, let’s face it, cannot be said of every VIP that crosses into a ward. He was warm and fun, and abrasive in the right way and challenging in the right way. One of my most abiding memories is being summoned in to see the Deputy Prime Minister because his hospital food was rubbish. He wanted to complain about that; I hope that is the only time a Deputy Prime Minister calls me in to criticise me for something that I am responsible for, but you never know. It is a testament to him that, after that spell in hospital, he invited all the staff who had looked after him to do a big tour, in a very John Prescott way, at Admiralty House, where he took us all through the back corridors of Whitehall, entertaining us with great bits of history and anecdote and finishing up with a mock auction. He had acquired a lot of geegaws and knick-knacks from all his diplomatic visits abroad, and he was throwing them out, with his very strong arm, for people in the room to catch. I hope that many of those people, including colleagues of mine at the time, still have some of those items and will treasure them. I give my heartfelt condolences to Pauline and to John’s family.

The House is always at its best at these times, and I am sure that John would have been smiling at the tributes; they were fantastic. The only thing I would add is that John managed to divide Hull into two when he became a “Robin”, but we will leave it at that.