Sketch: Unhappy Hunting for David Cameron Most importantly, there was the news that Britain was back in recession, a calamity for the Prime Minister and his Chancellor - or, as Del Boy from Only Fools and Horses would probably call them, the double dipsticks. Then there was the clamour for Jeremy Hunt, the Culture Secretary, to resign. And then at the Leveson Inquiry there was Mr Murdoch, capable of flinging a foam pie in Mr Cameron's direction at any moment. For reasons known only to himself and the assortment of dolls and cuddly toys who help him prepare for PMQs, Ed Miliband asked more questions about Mr Hunt than about the recession. Voters may be forgiven for wondering whether either front bench knows how to fix the economy. Has anyone thought to ask Roberto di Matteo at Chelsea? He's a dab hand with lost causes. During PMQs, Mr Hunt sat clammily. His notes shook in his hands. At 12.30 he rose to make a statement about his involvement in the BSkyB bid. It turned out his behaviour had been immaculate all along. With an impressively straight face he spoke of "my commitment to the integrity of the process," "my scrupulous impartiality." He also had some advice for the House. "I think all politicians," he declared, with the air of an angel imparting God's wisdom, "need to be open and transparent and to show humility." He's a shining example to us all, even if he does say so himself. Labour MPs wallowed noisily in his embarrassment. They took particular delight in the resignation of Adam Smith, Mr Hunt's special adviser. "Does the Culture Secretary expect us to believe all these incriminating emails were the work of "one rogue adviser"?" smirked Tom Watson. "When posh boys are in trouble, they sack the servants!" barked Dennis Skinner (Bolsover). Over at Leveson, Mr Murdoch was a picture of elderly innocence. How could anyone ever have spoken ill of this sweet, gentle old man, with his thoughtful pauses and cloudy memory? The only thing missing was a circle of adoring children at his feet, singing "Grandad, We Love You." Still, he wasn't always as kindly as he looked. Robert Jay QC reminded him of the first time he'd met Mr Cameron. Was it true he'd thought the Tory leader "lightweight"? "No," replied Mr Murdoch. He left a tiny, icy pause. Not then. Mr Murdoch returns to give more evidence tomorrow. The Prime Minister must hope that tiny, icy pauses are the worst of his weapons.