“It’s Brown! It’s Brown!”

The victory cry went up at about 10.30 p.m. outside Devonshire Recreation Club — and it was just what the doctor ordered.

Then came the screams, followed by small pockets of jubilant supporters hugging and dancing.

Scenes of jubilation erupted outside the conference hall, where a few dozen Ewart Brown followers had watched two-and-a-half hours of riveting political drama unfold from the confines of a cold, damp car park.

Locked out of the hall, barely able to hear a word of what was happening, many straining necks and balancing on tiptoes to see what was unfolding. They didn’t care — their man was home and dry.

Would he be a good Premier, we asked one supporter. “Of course he will,” she spluttered, appalled the question was even thrown her way. “Goodness gracious me.”

Inside delegates and MPs had just consigned Alex Scott’s three-year reign as Premier to the history books.

A close race was envisaged; but Dr. Brown’s second tilt at the top job turned out to be far easier than most pundits predicted.

Bermuda’s political landscape had just taken a dramatic shift and the new man in charge was already working the crowd presidential style almost as soon as his victory was rubberstamped.

The intensity of the night was evident from the start.

Alex Scott, flanked by Senators Walter Roban and David Burch, looked serious as a wrangle over voting rights of Senators delayed by an hour heated proceedings that at times seemed to be lacking direction.

The Premier, a keen Aretha Franklin fan, seemed to be saying a little prayer for his political future.

Dr. Brown, sitting next to his wife Wanda and backbencher Dennis Lister, appeared nervous and slightly on edge.

Perched on rows upon rows of plastic chairs, the mass of delegates looked on pensively. Many had water bottles on tables in front of them. As proceedings dragged on and a late night loomed, some might have been wishing they had brought something a little stronger.

One woman arrived outside with a tiny, crying baby cradled in her arms. She said the mother was one of the delegates waiting inside to vote. “Oh no,” she replied, when told it could be a while before the pair were reunited. “She’s the milk supplier.”

Finally things started moving, Alex Scott taking to his feet and starting his speech just after 9.30 p.m. The clang of scaffolding in the car park failed to mask a surprisingly muted response from delegates.

One Brown supporter was spotted putting her hands to her ears at one stage. Few inside the hall were putting their hands together. A bystander said he was unsure when the speech had actually started.

The stage was set for a determined looking challenger — and the doctor delivered.

Whereas his opponent provoked a tepid, somewhat lukewarm response from the floor, it was clear Dr. Brown, his early nerves now long gone and clearly hitting his stride, got much more of an ovation.

A table was thumped at one stage, a loud whoop went out and the Premier-in-waiting left the stage to a resounding reception as swathes of delegates rose to their feet.

Among the MPs gathered in a corner by the stage, one caught the eye and she certainly wasn’t celebrating.

Dame Jennifer Smith, ousted by a faction led by Dr. Brown in 2003, sat unmoved; her trance-like stare unbroken.

Moments before the count she rose to her feet and gestured angrily towards some party officials, her frustrations clear for all to see.

Behind her Alex Scott looked desolate, his grip on leadership was slipping. But confirmation of his demise was still to come.

Tension mounted as the votes from 150 delegates and 27 Parliamentarians were read one by one.

Drinkers from the bar around the corner spilled out to witness what would become a changing of the PLP guard. One heavily intoxicated man, who claimed to be a long-standing PLP member, noisily demanded the doors be unlocked and he be let inside, to the annoyance of those with their ears to windows desperately trying to keep tally charts of the votes.

“Brown. Brown. Brown. Scott.”

“Brown. Brown. Brown. Scott.”

The voting pattern emerging from the stage soon became predictable. It was never really neck and neck and the winner seldom seemed to surrender a lead of around 20 votes. This spelt curtains for the Premier.

“I think it’s a good result for Bermuda,” said a Brown supporter afterwards. “Now there’s a lot more hope.

“The PLP has been in for eight years and we have had eight years of being cautious.

“Now we should be on our way and there’s hope for people that want more of a change.”

Afterwards MPs hailed Dr. Brown’s forward-thinking speech “superb”, his rival’s effort — seen by some as too defensive — earning no public criticism but certainly no such superlatives.

The party will now unite, they echoed in parrot-like fashion; the fact their Deputy Leader had slammed their new leader in the press only days earlier a mere inconvenience.

If Ewart Brown was the so-called Hollywood candidate in this two-man leadership tussle, then last night’s victory was surely his blockbuster ending. How the script goes from here for him and Bermuda is anybody’s guess ...