Cole Moreton On Boris Johnson

This sounds familiar:

"Everyone wants to talk to him afterwards. I wait in line behind the BBC, then LBC, then another camera crew, and another, then a correspondent from Italy that Boris obviously knows. He speaks Italian, and they laugh. "Is it Cole?" says Boris suddenly, looking up in mid-stream. Yes, I say, taken by surprise. He smiles, and returns to the Italian, who has just asked about his reputation as a clown. "I don't think anybody underestimates the seriousness with which I am approaching this job."

Indeed. I am next, and the only one left ... but just as Boris opens his mouth to speak, the handler places his body between us. They have to go, he says nervously but insistently. Right now. 'Cole was with me on the stump in my first campaign in Henley,' Boris protests. The old pro has either been forewarned, or this is an example of that prodigious memory that allows him to quote the Greeks at length.

'Cole is my first priority!' he insists, not entirely plausibly, but the handler has other ideas. Al-Jazeera has appeared. Suddenly, it seems, they are not in such a hurry to go. Boris tells the reporter he is proud of his Muslim ancestors, rattles off a few answers then turns back to me. The room is almost empty. Every single reporter or broadcast journalist who wants it has been given time. But not me.

'We really do have to go,' insists the handler, who has obviously had firm instructions not to let us speak. Boris shrugs, and flashes one of those smiles that have helped him get away with so much. He's sorry, he's so busy, he'll ring me. In the morning. Absolutely.

I know he won't. Even if he wants to. (And so, in time, it proves.)"

It's a beautiful piece. Read it all.