The one thing they couldn’t cope with, was the disappearance of Charlie. The bond between him and the grand old ladies of Leicester Square had been very strong, but now he was gone. Stolen from the limelight, the grey girls were sure of it.

It had happened at one a.m., they thought, but they couldn’t be sure because they couldn’t see properly behind the screen. Illuminated by building site lamps, blinding out the usual city lights, the small army of men had set to work.

When the circus had finished, the grand old ladies of Leicester Square had first felt those love pangs. The idle class came flowing back onto their turf for a day’s pleasure. But for them, the pleasure would now be forever tempered.

For the grey dames, the stars of modern times had nothing on good old Charlie. His monochrome appearance was a comfort in the ever-changing whirlwind of colours that was London. The familiar sight of his questionable mustache alone was enough to put the flock at ease. They’d huddle together around him and nod their heads, contented that they still had their own, quiet place in the city that got noisier all the time.

Now, they were caught in the rain without Charlie and they had no hope of finding the cure.