Sketch: a hot date with Gorgeous George Galloway The Commons - or at least those of us who write about it - should be glad George Galloway is back. Since he stopped being MP for Bethnal Green and Bow, the House has missed him. Admittedly, it often missed him even when he was MP for Bethnal Green and Bow; he didn't exactly have the most impressive attendance record. Yesterday, however, he did turn up, for the first time since he won Bradford West in his self-proclaimed "Bradford spring." Sadly we were treated to only the briefest glimpse of him; this was, so to speak, a mere flash of ankle. Gorgeous George, like all the most expert flirts, knows how to leave his admirers wanting more. He was officially presented to the House at 3.30pm, after Education Questions. He had two sponsors (the chaps who stand beside you while you wait for the Speaker's summons). One was Gerry Sutcliffe, Labour MP for Bradford South; the other was Sir Peter Tapsell, our longest-serving MP (Commons debut: 1959) and thus known as the Father of the House. How intriguing to see Sir Peter and Mr Galloway together: the House's most venerable Conservative and its most explosive radical, standing shoulder to shoulder. Well, not quite shoulder to shoulder: of the two Mr Galloway is by some distance the shorter. But he has never been a man to let his self-confidence be shaken by a want of inches. Arriving in the chamber with a good five minutes of Education Questions left on the clock, he straightened his tie and smoothed his hair, as if awaiting a hot date. Passing the time while MPs jabbered about A-level grade inflation, he, Sir Peter and Mr Sutcliffe chatted cheerily. Whatever they were talking about, it seemed to please Mr Galloway immensely. His golden-brown face was screwed up in pleasure. He looked like a delighted walnut. At last the big moment came. "Order," cried the Speaker. Would the Honourable Member wishing to take his seat please come to the table? The House fell silent. Swapping his grin for a look of almost funereal gravity, Mr Galloway stepped forward, bowed his head to the Speaker once, reached the table, bowed his head again. "I, George Galloway," he read aloud, "do solemnly, sincerely and truly declare and affirm that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, her heirs and successors, according to law." Interesting: in recent years Mr Galloway has been much noted for his increasingly voluble holiness - he name-checks God more often than most rappers do - yet he'd affirmed the MPs" oath, rather than sworn on the Bible (or indeed some other holy book). Having signed in - the whole ceremony is like a strange combination of getting married and checking in at a hotel - Mr Galloway went to shake the Speaker's hand. For some little time, out of earshot, the Speaker engaged him in conversation - all the while holding on to Mr Galloway's hand, occasionally giving it an extra shake. It was a bit like watching a teenage girl who meets her pop star idol and can't bear to let him go. But finally the new MP for Bradford West escaped the Speaker's grasp, and, as lightly as an expensive scent, wafted out of the chamber.