A few weeks ago I took my gran along to the Apple store in Leicester to show her an iPad.

My fingers danced across the shiny screen, I blitzed through folders full of photos to show her its capabilities, and urged her to hold it in her hands to feel how light it was.

“That’s all very well,” she said, “but why is it any better than my laptop?”

Skip forward a month or so and Prospect Leicestershire chairman Nick Carter sat before a panel of around 12 scrutinising councillors.

A jazzy promotional video was projected onto a screen.

A brochure was handed out which contained so many giant fonts it looked like it had been delivered direct from the large print section of the Pork Pie Library.

Even USB sticks were dished out to the assembled councillors. “What on earth is this?” muttered one elderly sage.

It was an Apple-style all singing, all dancing performance. But it wasn’t enough for Bill Boulter (Lib Dem, South Wigston).

“That’s all very well,  but I think other organisations can do your job cheaper.”

Ouch. But to be honest, it was the closest we came to any real scrutiny during this hour or so.

Dr Kevin Feltham (Con, Gartree) basted Nick with compliments about how “nimble” the agency was. Then he kept repeating it. The word lost its meaning for a second. Nimble is a word you’d use to describe a sprightly safari animal, not a development agency.

As Nick talked about Prospect, Dr Feltham responded with kind of happy groans and syrupy smile you’d make on slipping into a hot bath after an exhausting day.

Hyperactive Peter Lewis, (Con, Loughborough South West) did a little better. He enthusiastically tackled the issue of Prospect’s brochure having too many city pictures in it, and not enough county snaps. He also roasted the promotional video as pointless.

But it would have taken a fair amount of ineptitude to flail in front of this committee, and Nick never swam near any trouble.

When awkward issues were raised (why do most districts get very little in return for the £18k they throw into the pot each year) he stroked his facial hair and nodded earnestly before responding in-depth.

Chief executive David Hughes – wearing a dark orange tie which almost matched his tanned exterior – was able to take a back seat as he watched the chairman deal with each of the questions capably.

In fact, David looked so bored with the entire thing that his files and papers were piled up ready to go before the final question had been answered.

“Come back soon,” members of committee chimed, as the pair got up to leave.

But by then a couple of older councillors were already distracted, jabbing their shiny new USB sticks with a sense of bafflement.