As Kemi Badenoch basked in the applause of the Tory faithful at the close of her pivotal speech at Conservative party conference last year, one member of her shadow cabinet looked less than enthused.

Robert Jenrick, bested by Badenoch in the leadership contest a year earlier, looked on, and – as one shadow cabinet member now recalls – had to be prodded by Lord Ashcroft to applaud. “If you’re plotting against someone, then you at least pretend to like them,” they say. “The thing about Robert is he’s not even a good machiavellian.”

Jenrick left the party a matter of months later, swiftly – and publicly – ejected by an ice-cold Badenoch after she got wind that he was planning to defect to Reform. This week, as the Conservative ranks enjoy their annual knees-up in Birmingham, the now Reform UK economy spokesperson has been swiping from the sidelines, accusing his old party of “once again copying our policies”.

But while Jenrick’s physical presence may be absent from the migraine-inducing interior of the International Convention Centre in the West Midlands, members could be forgiven for sighing that everywhere they looked, something reminded them of him.

At the heart of the conference, members queue to chortle at depictions of Jenrick in the Conservatives’ own “Birmingham tapestry”, a 27-metre (88ft) woven graphical retelling of the past two years in British politics, as seen through Conservative eyes.

Featuring Badenoch as a glorious 11th-century conquering warrior, the “tapestry” also depicts a tiny Jenrick wailing as he loses the leadership contest, as he watches a crowd cheering on his victor. A little later, under the heading “Expelleth the Turncoat”, an outsized Badenoch is seen banishing her tiny, sobbing former colleague – as she stands next to a photocopier where, legend has it, Jenrick’s resignation letter was found.

“I think it’s great fun; every story needs a villain and he’s ours,” says one party member who’d travelled from Scotland for the event. “He’s not a big figure here any more, he’s just a figure of fun.”

Another member says they voted for Jenrick in the leadership election and had felt let down by his plots to remove the leader after failing to get the top job. “The way he did what he did was spiteful, petty and childish. I was a massive fan, but now I couldn’t care less what he does,” he says. Referring to Jenrick’s hyperactive social media output, which regularly show the Reform economy spokesperson confronting fare-dodgers and shoplifters, he rolls his eyes. “It’s just attention-seeking, isn’t it?” he says. “I do wonder now, though, as Reform falter, if he regrets what he did. I hope so.”

The schadenfreude at Jenrick’s fading star is palpable at this conference. Unprompted, shadow cabinet ministers bring him up with unbridled delight. “I miss him like I would miss an abscess in my molar,” remarks one senior Tory, before wondering aloud about whether Jenrick was likely to be punched in the face during one of his vigilante operations.

Others are surprised at their own strength of feeling towards a former colleague. “Nobody knew how much we hated Robert until he left the party,” says one senior member. Repeating the mantra that they are more united behind Badenoch than any other leader in years, some credit Jenrick for bringing them closer together, because he had “briefed against everybody”. Another adds: “Rob leaving was like pulling out a splinter.”

The commentary is not limited to gossip around the bars of Birmingham’s Hyatt hotel. Mentions of Jenrick are met with groans in the audience at a packed fringe event of shadow cabinet ministers hosted by More in Common. Asked if he would consider taking Jenrick or any of the other three Tory MPs who defected back, the response of Alex Burghart, the party’s deputy leader, is unequivocal. “No, no, no and no,” he says. Was he relieved they were gone? “Yes, yes, yes and yes.”

Badenoch has made clear that neither Jenrick nor his fellow defectors (variously described by her team as “venal”, “mad” and “hopeless”) would ever be welcome back, going as far as thanking Nigel Farage for doing the “spring cleaning” of her party for her.

Others suggest Reform were welcome to one of their former star players. “Good luck to his new friends in Reform,” one says. “It’s all about Rob and his own ambitions and he’d elbow them into the path of an oncoming express train if it meant he got ahead.”

Appreciating the Birmingham tapestry in between panel sessions, the shadow undersecretary for environment, food and rural affairs, Aphra Brandreth, insists the party is completely over Jenrick, although his shadow here suggests there may still be some healing left to do. “Honestly I don’t spend any time thinking about Robert Jenrick,” she says, with a benevolent smile. “He’s gone, and we’ve all moved on.”