Where exactly was the flight to London? I was an anonymous person waiting in a departure lounge for the German ‘hostesses’ – or indeed anyone – to notice me. Just think how astonished they would be when my good friend, David Tennant, showed up to help with the luggage. That would buck them up. But then a TV screen flashed a headline. David Tennant had died of pleurisy. Now no-one would know that he had been my friend!

See David Tennant elsewhere on Dreamaticus in David Tennant returns as Dr Who (Rousse).

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Two young lads played an elaborate ‘army game’ at the old bus terminus in my home town. They were speaking Spanish into walkie talkies and I only recognised their call signs ‘Ola Uno’ and ‘Ola Dos’. A mean-spirited young girl was holding her baby sister by the scruff of the neck as if she were a puppy and I knew I had to intervene.

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I was driving a spectacular jaguar in a clumsy fashion in a carpark and I irritated the man behind. He was an actor who always played lotharios in British TV programmes. Didn’t he used to be in Howard’s Way?