Thursday, October 26, 1967
Albert Embankment, London
Amidst a haze of sodium orange thrown upon the street by the ancient Sturgeon lamps, a young woman stepped smartly through the sheeting rain, struggling with a particularly stubborn umbrella. Finally managing to erect the contraption, she shook herself, perhaps against the cool, gathering autumn breeze, and cast about for somewhere to sit. Spotting a bench, she withdrew a newspaper – some kind of broadsheet – from her suitcase, and trotted on particularly unsuitable heels to the seat, placed the paper on it, and sat down. Further rummaging in the suitcase, which obviously doubled as a handbag, produced a compact mirror, and she set about manhandling the unruly umbrella in the gusting wind and attempting one-handed to repair the damage to her hair, which she wore fashionably tight, slicked against her head. It would have showed her neck to good advantage, had her beige Burberry not had its collar pulled up against the weather.