Despair sets in.

Phone rings. It's 1.15am, and I'm getting rather grouchy at my desk in the Department of Health.

Me: Hello?
Taxi driver: Hello. I'm in Whitehall. Where is your building?
Me: It's the Department of Health. It's a big building set back from the road, opposite the cenotaph. Do you know the cenotaph?
TD: No. I'm at Studio.
Me: ???? I don't know Studio. The cenotaph is a big stone monument in the middle of the road on Whitehall. It's got wreaths of poppies and flags hanging off it. Can you see it?
TD: Monument? No. I'm at Studio.
Me: I don't know Studio. Which end of Whitehall are you at?
TD: Don't know.
Me: Can you get to the end that is nearest to Parliament Square?
TD: Parliament Street?
Me: Parliament Square - you know: where the Houses of Parliament are.
TD: I don't know Houses of Parliament.
Me: *eek!* Do you know Downing Street?
TD: No. I call you back when I find Parliament Street.
Me: Oh. Ok.

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