came up to me and rhetorically asked if I knew who I was going to pick up. I nodded and the look on his face told me that it wouldn’t be as straightforward as most taxi rides! He told me to turn round so I was facing the right way and then three people jumped in. It was Barry George, psychiatrist Susan Young and a member of his legal team. I was told to take them to the Barbican Thistle hotel, to make sure the windows were up and not to stop! I’ didn’t realise what they meant until I got to the gates to leave.
   Word must have got out that a taxi had gone in the back way and when I reached the gates there was a throng of newspaper people waving cameras and microphones. I really didn’t want to hurt anyone, they were only doing their job, but I knew that I daren’t stop because otherwise I’d have never been able to move.
   As I drove through the crowd of newspaper hacks, I suddenly felt a bang when one guy’s camera hit the cab. I had to carry on driving and was slowly cursing ever having seen the passenger that hailed me! Who would pay for any damage? Eventually we got through and sped away.
   Once we’d left the photographers behind, Barry George said that he hoped there was no damage to the cab because of him? There wasn’t!
   As I dropped them at the Barbican, there were several cab drivers that called out if I had realised who I had just dropped. I was tempted to say that I wish I hadn’t, after all I had a virtually new cab and I didn’t really need all that hassle. But I can’t deny that it was hardly a run of the mill afternoon! And for August 1, it was a job…!"