Chapter Four: Early Friday eveningAfter a rummage around the two domestic floors of Lavington Street that was to become my new home, as Harwood had articulated, and hastily dismissing the sentimental thoughts of a rapidly approaching Christmas, I settled into two chicken sandwiches, my first food of the day washed down by part of an adequate bottle of single malt and set about reading more about Mayler and then, if possible, Comrade Fyodor Nazarov Razin.
Henry Mayler officially signed on with us whilst at Oxford University. His father was a practising doctor in of all places; Harley Street, approximately fifty yards from the surgeons' clinic I had attended. The family had a house in Montagu Square, a pleasant ten-minute stroll away. The Maylers had moved into the six-storeyed spacious Lon
