AUTHOR’S NOTE

This is a very special book to me. Firstly, because when I began the research for this book, I never expected to knock on the door of the seventeenth-century Tower of London and find inhabiting there one of my German ancestors, and on the right side of the bars for once. So I gave him Ariadne. I thought he’d like her.

Secondly, the book recalls for me a remarkable stillness in the most remarkable of cities. On Sunday 4th May 2003, I was in London, exploring the back alleys of the south-eastern quadrant of the City. The City was empty, as it usually is on a Sunday. I was walking up St Mary-at-Hill, following the steeple trail. To my right I saw a tiny laneway—Idol Lane—and I caught a glimpse of something intriguing lurking amid the warehouses.

So I walked up Idol Lane, mildly curious, found an open churchyard gate…and walked through. I’m never one to refuse such an invitation.

I found…No. I’m not going to tell you. If ever you’re in London on a sunny Sunday (don’t go there during a weekday when the City office workers will be enjoying the magic) eschew the lure of Buckingham Palace or the Tower. Instead take a packed lunch and a bottle of wine, and perhaps even some company, and walk up Idol Lane and through the open churchyard gate.

You’ll find there one of the reasons I love London so greatly: a living piece of real London, and a very special silence.