On another day of darkness, the boy wonder offered at least a glimmer of hope

Iknow I shouldn’t call Rishi Sunak “boyish”. It’s not only patronising but also, coming from me, hypocritical, given that he’s actually older than I am. But even so, there’s no getting away from it: he really does look quite preternaturally boyish. And never more so than yesterday, at the No 10 news conference, when he was talking about Boris Johnson.

“The latest from the hospital,” said Mr Sunak, “is that the Prime Minister remains in intensive care – where his condition is improving! I can also tell you that he has been sitting up in bed, and engaging positively with the clinical team.”

In general, Mr Sunak is a smooth public speaker, steady and measured. But he didn’t try to disguise the pleasure it gave him to say the words.

Not that he was getting carried away. Far too soon for that. Small steps.

All the same, the tone of his voice, at that moment, was … well, no other word for it. Boyish. Eagerly boyish. The boyishness of a sparky young TV sports reporter, reading out some small sliver of hopeful news about a British player at Wimbledon. (If you can cast your mind back far enough to the days when there were TV sports

‘It’s easy to be popular when you’re flinging sacks stuffed with cash in almost every direction’

reporters, and players at Wimbledon.)

Somehow, it’s still less than two months since Mr Sunak was appointed Chancellor, and yet his few public appearances to date have earned him gushing reviews. Of course, it’s easy to be popular when you’re flinging sacks stuffed with cash in almost every direction – as he did once again at yesterday’s news conference, by announcing £750 million in support for the charities sector.

It will be months before we can decide whether his response to this crisis was right. But for the time being, it can be said that he generally strikes the right tone. Compare Dominic Raab, the Foreign Secretary, who in front of the cameras has seemed nervy and unsettled. Mr Sunak, however, seems remarkably calm. And for the viewer, his calmness is itself calming.

He didn’t pretend to have all the answers. “I’ve been very honest,” he said (a phrase he uses, somewhat defensively, to preface bad news).

“I can’t stand here and say I can save every job, protect every business, or indeed every charity. That’s simply not possible.

“But we can put in place an enormous amount of support, to help as many people as possible get through this.”

Dark as these times are, perhaps there is at least a tentative sign of hope. Commentators have talked about what a psychological blow it has been to see the Prime Minister in such danger. But maybe we’ll soon be able to look at it another way. What a psychological boost it will be if – let’s dare to say when – the Prime Minister recovers, and gets back to work.