I was tall sandy-haired boy. Although still only 15 I had been entrusted to undertake surveillance at the new cafe on Hilly Fields. Sipping a vanilla milkshake I saw a middle-aged man pushing a tea trolley. By dropping my napkin, and stooping down to the floor to retrieve it, I was able to see that he had attached three Domestos bottles full of chemical weapons to the underside of the trolley with black tape.

I stood up and denounced him. He immediately attempted to throttle me, but having failed that we sat down together and ate baked potatoes.