Adventures North of London
The tube terminates, but I’m not at Heathrow. A sign says Cockfosters. I exit the station and walk.
I come to a modestly-sized hotel. There don’t seem to be many lights on. Perhaps there is no one in. Perhaps this place is a palace and has been set aside for me, waiting for me to come and occupy it.
I walk around the side of the building. At the back is a large conservatory; its door is partly blocked by several large potted geraniums but I pull it anyway. It gives slightly. I pull it hard. It opens, knocking the geraniums over in the process.
Inside, I explore my palace. Carpeted corridors stretch past plush room after plush room; wandering freely, find myself in a reception area and recline in a luxuriously comfortable armchair. This then, is where I shall rule from.
I hear a sound: the opening of a door. A man appears.
“What the bl… What do you think you’re doing here?”
“I have come to rest, and to sleep.”
“Well we’re closed. How did you get in?”
“Through your glass house.”
“Well bugger me. Look, you can’t just break into a place and expect to be put up for the night. I’ll overlook this, but you’ve got to clear off.”
The man opens the front door. “Go.”