MO Mowlam walked on to the scene of another Irish mess: the Connemara country kitchen for the Theatre Royal's domestic drama The Beauty Queen Of Leenane.

At the height of her political career, Ireland's long-running domestic was her problem to solve.

"It makes me feel at home," said the former Labour MP for Redcar and Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, surveying the pots and pans. "I've got an Irish kitchen; just what I always wanted."

Ireland was to form the rambling first half of last night's Audience, her life story the second, in an evening of Mo Mowlam at her most natural, talking frankly, caring not a jot for middle-England niceties or Tony Blair's ego.

She removed the debris of her train-journey dinner from her glasses with the aid of water from a jug; apologised for feeling tired; yawned at one of her own answers; sneezed spectacularly; and had a running battle with her microphone and her concentration (skiing off-piste from her notes, and inviting the audience to steer her back on course).

She was behaving as is she were at home, which indeed she was, doing what she most enjoys, talking and discussing, sometimes dismissive in her candour when answering questions.

She was brusque, her humour tart, but her intelligence burned ever brightly, along with her zeal for social change and her open loathing of Peter Mandelson.

Dr Mo is a no-bull political agony aunt, her home truths at odds with so much of today's slick political presentation.

Updated: 11:05 Tuesday, November 16, 2004