Flood victims tune out as politicians wade in, saying: 'We've heard it all before'

Britain's flood crisis has entered its second phase. The water's gone and the politicians have started arguing.

It's the usual finger jabbing scenario, lots of "I told you so" and "we saw this coming".

Phase three will be next - committees and action groups. That's when the public start to lose interest. Hot air won't dry their carpets. Not that kind, anyway.

On Kirkstall Road in Leeds, they've heard it all before.

This is one of the main routes into England's third biggest provincial city, but less than a fortnight ago it was completely submerged.

As the traffic crawls past her once again, Sadia Rasib is surveying the damage to her business.

The Great Yorkshireman chip shop is her pride and joy. On Boxing Day, it was overwhelmed by waters from the swollen River Aire. It won't open again until the spring.

"We're working hard to stop this from happening again", says Environment Secretary, Liz Truss.

"Spare me," counters an exasperated Sadia.

The people of Kirkstall Road have, literally, heard it all before. Back in 2011, a £180 million plan to protect Leeds from flooding was scrapped on cost grounds - one of the many "tough choices" the hard-up coalition government said it had to make.

Leeds Council described that as "the economics of the madhouse" at the time, claiming flood defences should be seen as a cost saving, not an expense.

"The events of Boxing Day probably will probably end up costing more than £180 million", council leader Judith Blake told me.

"This project would have paid itself off already".

Today, it was the turn of the Environment Agency to take a grilling.

Its boss, Sir Phillip Dilley, who became a target for public anger as he holidayed in Barbados while the deluge hit Britain, appeared before a committee of MPs.

He faced some awkward questions - but don't expect the residents of Kirkstall Road to take much interest. They'll be too busy cleaning up.

"Promises from politicians? They're as much use as a chocolate fireguard," was the frank assessment of hairdresser Robin Green.

"It's like the Northern Powerhouse," he told me. "It'll never happen."

And that, it seems, is where we are now. The politicians are talking but the public, in the main, have stopped listening.

The floods are over, normal service has resumed.