LAST Saturday I joined more than one million other people from around the country to march on Parliament Square and call for us to be allowed to vote between the reality of Brexit and remaining in the EU.

Families, the old and the young marched in peaceful solidarity, and momentarily I felt proud to be British again after years of humiliation for our country as reality crashed down on the shores of the Brexiters.

But if you were sat watching the coverage on TV you’d think Farage’s rival betrayal march was of equal stature, yet amazingly its marchers now rank just 84, yes 84.

Not that they’re actually marching much, rather being bussed between photo opportunities followed all the way by crowdfunded campaigners displaying pre-referendum tweets by Brexiters that contradict everything they have said since.

Brexit’s billionaire backers must be well miffed, surely money can buy those tax exiles everything?

Even the pro Brexit petition has only mustered a tenth of the fiveand- a -half million names on the revoke article 50 one. So where are all these Brexiters other than at their keyboards?

No wonder Mrs A Edwards is so disappointed, who to blame this time, can’t be the immigrants can it?

No it’s the Brexiters fighting among themselves like the Lavender Hill Mob, because as Donald Tusk wryly observed, they had ‘not even the sketch of a plan’ what to do post victory.

What a divisive embarrassing mess they’ve plunged our country into, and for what exactly?