And then he was there, mid-heatwave a little out of breath. Then ‘Mr Campbell, Mr Campbell’ became louder, more intense. ‘Mr Campbell, Mr Campbell,’ – usually it’s ‘Alastair’, so the more formal approach felt different, and as I couldn’t work out where the voice was coming from, I walked on.
There was something so intense about the voice chasing me down the platform at Marylebone station. It was a bit of an Ancient Mariner moment. Meanwhile, here is my own offering this week. Alone, it justifies the cover price, and if you haven’t already subscribed to the paper, I suggest you do, here. It has had one of the biggest responses to any piece we have run. Before I tell you about an important book I have recently read (my piece for this week’s New European,) let me first make sure you’re aware of this excellent article in the paper from BBC veteran Gavin Esler.
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