Sketch: The Tory representatives are crowded around the Teletubby green BBC exhibition stand on one of the conference walkways. On-screen, Andrew Neil is interviewing Philip Hammond, Shadow Chief Secretary to the Treasury.

The Tory representatives are crowded around the Teletubby green BBC exhibition stand on one of the conference walkways. On-screen, and just a few metres down the hall, Andrew Neil is interviewing Philip Hammond, Shadow Chief Secretary to the Treasury.

"Should people be scared, Mr Hammond?" asks Andrew Neil. "I'm frightened, we've never seen anything like this." The audience lean forwards together for the response. Mr Hammond practises his best bedside manner: "I think we should be concerned ..."

What politicians say at a time like this is crucially important, but how they say it is just as vital. David Cameron had just come off stage having delivered an object lesson in how to provide assurance with his own carefully weighed version of unfolding events.

With the ground moving rapidly around them the Conservative front-bench team are well aware that they need a new game plan. The image of the Conservatives as free-marketing, City- loving, capitalists could leave Mr Cameron on the wrong side of the tracks.

In the Birmingham bubble the Conservatives have been saying contradictory things about the financial crisis, trying to blame the government for what voters see as a global problem, straining with their instincts not to condemn the markets while sounding stern on irresponsible profiteering.

George Osborne went some of the way towards telling people that he was on the side of voters against rich bankers on Monday.

Mr Cameron's tone was pitch-perfect, his stature prime ministerial enough.

His key message was bipartisanship, that the UK was not like the US, that he would put aside any rivalry in Westminster to push through legislation that will protect savers if more banks go under. Today, Mr Cameron returns to the podium for his keynote speech but such is the uncertainty that his address will be drafted and redrafted.

News of the collapse of the Congressional bailout deal swept through the conference hotel as representatives made their way to evening receptions on Monday. The Dow Jones went down quicker than the drams at the Scotch Whisky Association reception. While Mr Cameron did his duty to the Scottish Conservative fringe circuit, appearances later in the evening were curtailed. Being seen quaffing champagne while the world stood on the brink of a financial abyss would not be the done thing.

Mr Cameron spoke to Mr Brown by telephone and offered support. By yesterday morning orders for a new mood of bipartisanship, and an end to attacks on the government, even extended to the Milibanana stands - lifesize portraits of the Foreign Secretary being used to lampoon his efforts to become Prime Minister. The banana stands were removed.

It was a near-empty hall that awaited Dominic Grieve, the shadow home secretary at the 1pm slot. Wherever the Tory faithful were, they weren't at a free lunch - the bill for that had just arrived on the world's doormat.