David was waiting for me at St John’s Wood Underground station in North . There was exhilaration in his expression. He seemed oblivious to the whipping winter cold. ‘Hurry up and come with me,’ he said. ‘I want you to see my new pad.’ We raced along hand in hand and turned into a side road off the high street, then into a small courtyard.It might once have been an old mews or a merchant’s yard, but now it was new and shiny and residential. David unlocked an outer door and geed me up three flights of stairs to the apartment on the top floor.‘Here!’ he said, excitedly turning his latchkey and flinging the door wide. ‘This is it!’
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