On the evening of September 17th 1991 I was travelling on the underground from Knightsbridge to St Pancras. I found myself sitting opposite two women who occasionally conversed in a Scandinavian language.
I was drawn by the appearance of the taller of the pair.
She had striking red hair and, combined with her startling eyes, this somehow gave her the appearance of some exotic bird of prey; an eagle, I thought.
At 1:p.m. on September 19th 1991 I walked into an entrance of University College Hospital London.
I had to return an appointment form for their diabetic clinic and rather than posting it I decided to walk the five minutes from my office to the hospital, there to fill it in and hand it over.
I discovered from the person at the desk that I had come to the wrong entrance and that I should hand in the form at the next street along.
Still, I first sat down to complete it.
As I was doing so the same two Scandinavian ladies walked in.
They looked a little lost.
They asked directions at the desk (for the hospital canteen, I think), and like me they were directed to the next street.
They lingered in the hall for a few moments, and, in a bizarre final act, the one whom I had thought to look like the exotic eagle produced a camera and took a picture of an obscure sign on the wall.
Then they left.