Big Boy Leo didn't cry after Taoiseach cracked the whip

For one of the front-bench beasties had strayed off the reservation and babbled about Budget-related matters. And the rogue critter was Leo the Lip who is one of those endangered species of beasts who is wont to speak in plain, jargon-free English.

At the hotel the Taoiseach and Michael Noonan were bursting to tell the media how - despite their proximity to the Fota Island Zoo - they had no intention of digging up the interred Celtic Tiger, even though economic tails are up. Instead they would be duetting on that Beatles song, Dear Prudence.

This was to be a show of unity - Michael wasn't even staying for the entirety of the two-day talkfest, as he was in the middle of his own European roadshow, touring various EU cities in an effort to haggle a bit of a break on our monstrous bank debt. He was leaving for a pow-wow in Milan immediately after addressing the troops (behind closed doors, naturally) on the matter of next month's Budget.

Also missing was newly-appointed EU Agriculture Commissioner Phil Hogan who was in Brussels measuring for curtains in his new gaff and brushing up on his French.

But alas all attention was on Big Boy.

After his solo run on the Budget, Leo was invited to step into Enda's Blue Room of Pain. The master evidently felt it was time he cracked the whip and showed the wayward young man the error of his ways. Surely the Health Minister knew by now that during this delicate period of pre-Budget negotiations, the topic is a grey area indeed when it comes to making public pronouncements.

But naughty Leo didn't listen, and needed to be disciplined. Otherwise before the Taoiseach knew it, his whole Cabinet would be hustling across the Leinster House Plinth with their begging-bowls out, gabbling to the wretches in the media about how much moola they each require to keep their Departmental show on the road.

And so Leo the Lip was duly given a stern talking-to behind closed doors, but in front of his fellow frontbenchers. Loose Lips sink Ships of State, blah blah blah.

Mercifully, the Health Minister seemed to be both unbloodied and unbowed when he strolled into the Fota Hotel in Cork for the opening of Fine Gael's two-day think-in. He stood in the sunny garden and chatted with his colleagues as, a few feet away, the Taoiseach was dealing with Leo-related questions lobbed into him by a gaggle of reporters.

The Taoiseach had been in feisty form earlier in the day, when he took lumps out of the invisible army of Sir Humphreys in the Health Department while being grilled about (sigh) Leo by Pat Kenny on Newstalk.

But by the time he talked to reporters in Cork he was trying to prevent lava from the Varadkar Volcano from flowing all over the party's carefully-planned think-in.

"I think the Minister clarified his remarks about figures being mentioned in the Budget. The Cabinet have not made collective decisions about the Budget yet," he said in tones designed not to scare the horses.

Beside him, Michael Noonan said soothing things about the Health Minister. "I've spoken to Leo. I think Leo is a very good minister and a very good communicator," he declared.

Other ministers were also adopted the 'crisis, what crisis?' approach.

Agriculture Minister Simon Coveney was also airy about the whole palaver as he arrived at the Fota Hotel. It had been "blown out of all proportion,", he insisted, explaining that Leo had merely been using "normal-speak rather than economic-speak" when he had spoken about fivers and tenners in people's pockets.

But Simon backtracked at speed when asked if the boss had been too strict with Leo. "You're not going to drag me into this - the Taoiseach can say what he want," he dodged in alarm.

Another minister laughed off the to-do. "It's simple - the attitude with Leo is that it's just that the baby is teething," he shrugged.

When Leo turned up, he was neither teething or seething. It "wasn't quite the case" that he had offered a hatful of mea culpas to the Taoiseach, although he admitted that Enda "was very clear" that he wanted no pre-Budget babble - "and he's totally right about that."

He was sanguine about his dressing down. "Lookit, I don't mind being slapped down or scolded. I'm a big boy and I'm willing to take a degree of criticism from time to time," he explained cheerfully.

But then there was a flash of steel from him too. "But at the same time it's not about my dignity, it's not about my ego, it's about frontline staff and it's about patients."

"I've respect for the Taoiseach, I'm here entirely at his discretion, I absolutely take leadership from him and there's no doubts about that."

Nor would Enda reveal just what he had said when he cracked the whip. "I wouldn't comment, of course, on anything that we might have discussed in private among ourselves," he declared.

Indeed. Big Boy can breathe easy. What happens in the Blue Room, stays in the Blue Room.