The flight from Gatwick to France was cancelled and there was no prospect of another for three days. Paddington station was closed and the road to the south-west of England and home was impassable. Gatwick airport railway station was in chaos as train after train in both directions was cancelled due to snow.
Then a friend came to the rescue and offered her flat in south London until I could book another flight. A train to Clapham Junction then a bus would get me there. The keys were in a key safe attached to the rear of the porter’s lodge.
A rogue northbound train arrived and everyone jumped on irrespective of its destination, as though it were the last train out of Berlin before the Russians turned up. At Clapham Common the bus was still gamely running and it stopped right outside the imposing 1930s block of flats.
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