Green Street, Mayfair. A romantic road, I always think it is a street of spies, right out of Buchan with John Hannay or Le Carre’s George Smiley, walking along here on the way to meet the opposition.
Green Street, just of Park Lane, parallel to Oxford Street and just down a bit. A street of wealth and plenty. A chauffeur stands sentry against his long black car and looks at his mobile phone. More espionage?
Green Street, with its red brick apartments each portico with shiny black railings. Each portal with its polished brass plate bearing improbable company names The HLR Helicopter Company, Export Recruitment Limited; implausible businesses the business of spies?
I arrive at Number One Green Street for my meeting. I promise myself to make a drawing of the warm red brick and tile doorway with its polished plaque.
I am here to see my friends at Hedron, no collusion only collaboration.