RED flags flying all over Warrington. Wonder what odds Fred Done would have given on that six weeks ago?

Not since the heady days of The Two Helens has Labour triumphed on both sides of the river.

And with only a few weeks of campaigning former mayor Faisal Rashid has made history, ousting David Mowat in Warrington South.

Like Podium prayed for, this was on a substantial turnout, honouring a fascinating contest between worthy candidates all round.

In defeat, Mr Mowat was magnanimous and it was fitting that ex-Warrington South Parliamentarian Mike Hall was on hand to congratulate the new incumbent.

Hopefully the united voices of the Jones-Rashid axis can only benefit Warrington at Westminster.

If the political classes ever decide to tackle the NHS, schools, social care, wages issues, you know the non-Brexit 95 per cent of the rest of our lives.

Those with slightly longer memories might puzzle at the Corbynistas canonisation of the sainted Jezza, on the national stage, like it’s ‘83 or ‘87 all over again.

You have to whisper this, to dodge a tsunami of righteous leftie fury, but Comrade Corbyn still didn’t win.

Campaigned with vigour, unlike moribund May; galvanised the youth vote; appeared more statesmanlike after the Manchester and London bombings.

But this isn’t a heavyweight boxing bout and there are no TKOS.

For all the hammer blows to May’s credibility (and she might be toast before this screed reaches the printers) she limps on.

Supported by a bunch of Celtic ‘fanatics’ in the DUP. Though in 2015 of course it was apparently traitorous to let the Rob Roys of the SNP become potential kingmakers.

(In fairness this philosophical avenue should be sealed off for Podium. While my grandfather would have no truck with sectarian posturing, I’m not sure there aren’t some black and white photos of parading Magills in Belfast, gathering dust in an Ulster archive.) Returning to the question in hand, this panto has a few more acts before we can make a dash for the Br(exit).

Perhaps the principals can take time to reflect on whether the pursuit of a hardline EU withdrawal, or pledging to remortgage Britain for a socialist Utopia, are worth moderating in the country’s broader interests.

* With exquisite timing, just as public life threatens to become bloodier than Game of Thrones, it’s time to draw the curtains at Podium Towers one last time.

This will be my final effort for the Guardian as, in newspaper terms, I’m essentially cup-tied for the foreseeable future.

One of my oldest friends in journalism (who happens to be the editor’s husband) once remarked that only I could launch a column in an age where every schmuck with a smart phone thinks they’re a seasoned critic.

But it’s been tremendous fun for the past few years and far cheaper than forking out for a good therapist.

The only foreteller of this admittedly shaky enterprise was a late 90s page compiled by then-editor Mark Rossiter, who curiously like me started out at the Warrington freelance agency, Orbit News, before heading to the Guardian and later the Coventry Evening Telegraph.

If this corner of our esteemed publication gave you pause for thought, then I’m glad. And if you loathed the mere sight of it, my work here is done.

I’d like to thank the Guardian’s guardians, Hayley Smith and Gareth Dunning, for the opportunity to wax lyrical. Reading the paper continually, as I’ve done home or abroad, is ample proof, despite challenging times, that this organ’s future is in safe hands.