Many had been indulging in mindless wishful thinking (step forward, Rory Stewart). But come Wednesday morning most people in the UK were coming to terms with a very different reality. One where the majority of American voters – for whatever reason, economic or ideological – had chosen the candidate who was a known sexual abuser and convicted felon and whom former allies describe as a fascist. A known liar and narcissist who had actively tried to undermine the democratic process. A shallow, capricious man without filters who says and does what he likes. All of this was priced in – there were no surprises – but people love him for it. So the US has voted. The rest of us have to suck up the consequences.

But not everyone’s mind was on the fallout from the US election. A handful of Conservative grandees, including Theresa May and Norman Lamont, had sneaked into the Lords’ seating gallery in the Commons to observe their latest saviour. The woman who was going to bring them back from the abyss. To put meaning into their otherwise empty lives. They were a part of history. To see a new Tory leader slay Keir Starmer at prime minister’s questions. The only person missing was Robert Jenrick. The Whiff of Impropriety had other places to be. Why support your leader on her big day out?

At least that was the fantasy: a leader in whom they could believe. As Kemi Badenoch took her place on the opposition frontbench, her MPs roared their support. They hadn’t made this much noise since Rishi Sunak had made his first appearance at PMQs. Remember how that one ended. Up in the gallery, Kemi’s husband gave her an encouraging smile. Dinner tonight should be interesting.

Starmer got things under way by congratulating Donald Trump on his victory and said he was looking forward to working with him. A lie, but what else could he say? He then welcomed Kemi to her place, pointing out that she was his fourth Tory leader. She almost certainly won’t be his last.

Up stepped KemiKaze. The Tory MPs willing her on. If you could survive on vibes alone then Kemi was already a winner. And the opening sentence promised much. Confident. Assertive. She was proud to be leading the Conservative party and promised to work constructively with the government in the national interest.

That was a promise that lasted less than five seconds. To be precise, until she started the next sentence. Because her first question was to dredge up some remarks made about Trump by David Lammy back in 2018 in which he had described the president as a “woman-hating, neo-Nazi sympathising sociopath”. All of which happened to be true, if unfortunate coming from a man who was to become foreign secretary.

Here was Kemi at her most disingenuous. Trying to score some cheap political points while undermining what was already a difficult relationship between the UK and the US. If this was KemiKaze’s idea of being diplomatic, I’d hate to come across her when she was speaking her mind. There will be no situation that she is incapable of making worse.

And her hypocrisy was breathtaking. Kemi has spoken at length about freedom of speech, how she detests the idea of offence archaeology, people trawling through old tweets to find something that might be used against them now. Yet here she was, rummaging through Lammy’s back catalogue to try to win an exchange at PMQs that would be forgotten by the following day. It marked her down as a fundamentally unserious woman. Priti Patel smirked because that’s what she always does. But you could see a look of resignation cross the faces of many of her MPs. Meet the new leader. Same as the old leader.

And Badenoch was not finished. She went in again on Labour playing student politics by sending party members over to the US to campaign in the election. You have to wonder about her self-awareness. Because if anyone had been playing student politics it had been her. So keen to get in a fight that she didn’t care how much damage she inflicted on the country. Far better to embarrass the prime minister by stirring up a thin-skinned president-elect than help prevent a damaging trade war that could cost the country billions. It’s good to know she’s got our backs.

If anything, KemiKaze got worse and worse. She accused the government of not having mentioned defence spending in the budget. It did. Five times at least. She even accused Starmer of reading his answers from a script. While reading from a script. Flustered, she also started making policy up on the hoof. Having pledged to lead by principle.

But this is Kemi. Effortlessly arrogant. She thought it would be a doddle taking down Keir at PMQs. But it wasn’t. It required effort, thought and timing. It also required judgment. That was always going to be too much to ask. Just take a look at her shadow cabinet appointments. And Mark Francois as a shadow defence minister. Sometimes, the leader of the opposition has to be a grownup. I’m not sure if Kemi can quite manage that.

“He will be a one-term leader,” she said of Starmer in conclusion. Mmm. We’ll see about that. But even if he is, there’s a good chance he will outlast KemiKaze. Two-thirds of Tory MPs had never wanted her in the first place and they had seen nothing to change their minds.

Kemi might have used up her six questions, but the Labour benches were far from finished with her. They were going to take her down now. Leave her fatally wounded in the eyes of her own MPs. One after another, Labour backbenchers stood up to highlight her weak spots. Excessive maternity pay. Autistic children getting an easy ride. Partygate reporting overblown.

Come the end, Kemi was left howling into the wind, heckling anyone who dared contradict her. Hers was a lone voice. Her own MPs were already dissociating from her. She had been the future once. Now to get back to reality. How do you solve a problem like the Donald?

• Taking the Lead by John Crace is published by Little, Brown (£18.99). To support the Guardian and Observer, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.