Boris Johnson will never apologise for the coronavirus handling

And how did these accounts make it into the headlines? A furious Lady Hallett prefaced Johnson's evidence on Wednesday with a stern telling off about undermining the inquiry's authority. Boris the Innocent had no idea how his witness statement had ended up in the public domain.

What an absolutely baffling turn of events. How astonishing to see headlines portraying exactly what Boris the Lamb wanted them to say. It was a remarkable piece of good fortune and he had no idea how his allies had come across it.

What Boris the Industrious wanted us, the public, to know is that he tried his hardest during the pandemic. He did his best. His government and his civil servants worked hard. Very hard. That hard work was their downfall.

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It was, Boris the Plaintive, said, the very fact of this unrelenting graft that led to confusion over covid rules and the need to let off steam. The very idea that Downing Street was raving during lockdown, Boris the Indignant said, was a nonsense cooked up by the media. The public's popular understanding of what happened in Downing Street, he told Hugo Keith KC, the lead counsel to the inquiry, is a "million miles" from what really happened.

Boris the Hypocrite believes the media has lied. "I speak on behalf of hundreds and hundreds of hard-working civil servants who thought that they were following the rules," he told Mr Keith.

"Some of the media coverage, the dramatic representations, that we’re now having of this are absolutely absurd."

Boris the Liar went further. "A travesty of the truth," he called it. Well, he should know.

On day one of his appearance Boris Johnson was sorry for himself and wanting us to feel sorry for him too. Skimming right past the facts of suitcases of wine in Downing Street during lockdown and that unfortunate karaoke machine on wheels, Johnson the Defender put up a case we have heard from him before.

The pandemic was hard work and his staff worked hard. And hard work needs hard play. One wonders what Boris the Grafter thought the job of prime minister entailed? Naps at lunchtime and optional meetings?

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Well, when it came to Cobra meetings he treated those as optional, so perhaps. Boris Johnson is not truthful with parliament, colleagues, civil servants, the public or wives. Why on earth would we expect truth from him at the covid inquiry?

Day one saw him conduct himself in an uncharacteristically straight manner. There was no Latin, there was no overblown rhetoric. He seemed deflated at points and petulant at other.

By day two he had recovered enough pep to almost make a joke before thinking better of it.

Boris the British was asked the most important mistake he and his government made during covid. Messaging, he said, was too confused in that it differed between England, Scotland and the other bits of the UK, whatever they're called.

In other words, the devolved administrations were a problem and that was the best he could come up with.

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For those of us following along online, Thursday saw an odd juxtaposition of media website front pages. There were the headlines of Boris Johnson's covid testimony next to photographs of a BBC TV presenter seemingly flipping the bird - and it is a useful juxtaposition because Maryam Moshiri surely speaks for us all.

The news anchor, who has more than 20 years experience, was caught putting her middle finger up to the camera - and the brief shot of her doing so went out on the world feed of BBC News.

Horror for her; vindication for the anti-BBC fringe who think the corporation is laughing at them; and light relief for the rest of us who realise these things happen.

To dwell a little longer on the juxtaposition: these things do happen. There are unprofessional moments in the workplace where an ill advised word or injudicious moment occurs.

There are things said behind the scenes in many professions - the media, the law, medicine - that serve as a form of gallows humour, a means of distancing oneself, to help the brain batter on through sometimes unrelenting grim moments.

The covid inquiry's productions have shown ministers and civil servants conversing in this way. There are plenty of things that can be said behind closed doors that would never be appropriate should daylight shine on them.

But there is a distinction between a type of stiff self-preservation in difficult times and callousness. The behind-the-scenes glimpse of Downing Street present in the inquiry's productions show callousness from a man utterly out of his depth.

One telling note from the diary of Sir Patrick Vallance, the UK Government's chief scientific advisor, claims Johnson has suggested Wales's covid mortality rates are due to "the singing and the obesity". For the avoidance of doubt, the scientist adds, "I never said that". During his examination Hugo Keith lingered over the "let it rip" comments from the diary entries written by Sir Patrick during the pandemic.

Johnson became agitated, petulant. "This was a phrase in common parlance at the time and remains so." Was it? Does it?

"This is exactly what you'd expecting me to talk about at this stage," he grumbled on. Mr Keith came to the lines from the diary where Johnson is quoted as saying that the elderly will die but "they've had a good innings".

The thing is, we have heard this already. The surprise of the covid inquiry so far is the lack of surprise.

There is no smoking gun at this inquiry. Rather there is a constant, steady confirmation that what the public believed to be true - but was denied by Johnson and his government - is actually true.

Boris Johnson, however, isn't on board with the truth as a general concept and so he was uncomfortable having his obfuscation and mistruth laid bare before him.

He was returned to his most authentic self the moment he stepped out of the door: slovenly, eccentric, dressed in his awful puffa jacket and Grimsby Town hat.

Why, one gently ponders, does the man - a man with no connection to the seaside town - insist on wearing a pompom beanie when the temperature drops? Like all things Johnsonian, there is no good reason, other than his own convenience.

"It’s what I grab when I run out the house," he told Grimsby Live last year. "There’s no particular science to it."

He added: "It’s a very good hat. It’s lovely and warm. What I like most is that it comes down and covers my ears."

The unkempt, devil-may-care appearance is part of his shtick, a shtick he would not be able to get away with were he working class - being dishevelled in public office is a toffs-only wheeze - or female.

Imagine Nicola Sturgeon turning up to formal legal proceedings as a representative of high political office with no make up and a beanie on, expecting to be taken seriously.

Anyway, the question for the country is how to move on and heal without contrition and remorse from the man in charge. From Johnson the Unrepentant there will be no contrition, no sincere apology.

How to restore truth as a fundamental part of public life - that's the post-Johnson, post-pandemic challenge when a public can neither forgive nor forget.