Fawcett Travels: A rum do and no mistake
On a seemingly routine business trip to London my RH man received a somewhat cryptic communique from a seemingly innocuous cab driver called ‘Gary’ (an unlikely name and no doubt a pseudonym, Ed ) that he was to proceed without further delay to Hyde Park underground station where he was to collect an apparently abandoned attaché case from a bench. He was told that he would know instinctively which bench and to look out for a lady dressed in purple who under no circumstances whatsoever was he to make eye contact with or attempt to engage in conversation.
Whisky wow wow he thought for the game was truly afoot and as such off he dashed.
Having successfully located said bag, a close examination of its contents revealed an encoded message found stuck to the side of a tin of Tuna (shome mishtake shurely? Ed. ) Which when deciphered, instructed the by now over excited cove that he needed to go undercover immediately before proceeding to the Embassy to collect his travel documents.
A quick trip to Pall Mall Barbers for a facial hair makeover, facilitated his disguise, although his beard still seemed apparent as it protruded from under the by now rapidly cooling hot towel.... No matter, onward for time is of the essence.
The reason for travel given ‘that he was interested in old buildings and wished to visit an old clock that few had heard of’ seemed to satisfy the Ruritanian visa authorities and as such permission to visit was eventually granted... Huzzah.
On leaving the consul, a chance, or was it? An encounter with a street musician who appeared intent on blowing his own trumpet (a likely story! Ed ) intimated in no uncertain terms that the RH man, for this is he, should visit the Royal Albert Hall where further instructions would be conveyed in the intermission between the second and third movements of Wagner’s Ring.
The RH man was informed, that he should at the given time, approach the tray carrying mobile ice cream sales man who would appear in the upper circle and that he should establish his credentials by requesting a cornet of Cornish finest vanilla ‘whipped and not spooned with marshmallow sprinkles’
Came the orchestral break twice and with Juan Cornetto aka Agent 99 failing to show up ( the man was quite obviously a flake Ed. ) It was time to take matters into his own hands. Hastily exiting stage right the RH man left the building and made his way to a famed railway terminus and boarded a train bound for..... TBC
