So we didn’t take it seriously at the time, but it turns out that yes, we were a bit rude to a fortune-teller called Gypsy Rose Madder at a Reading fête, and yes, she did serve us up a curse. Since we’d scoffed at her lack of knowledge and questioned the authenticity of her Romany heritage, she fated us to ‘Visit 211 of London’s best events, restaurants, galleries, exhibitions, plays, musicals and more before the end of 2011, or be destroyed be legions of unholy terrors from the bowels of the Pit.’
We didn’t take it at all seriously at first. We were pretty happy in our Reading home – why would we want to leave? Everything was fine, until around the start of February, when I noticed my hands were turning into long, curving claws like a rat’s. Soon, shrieking hell-spirits were scratching up the wallpaper in our Reading house, and a shadowy grey dog with glowing yellow eyes blocked the entrance to the upstairs bathroom.
So we upped sticks and got a tiny flat in Waterloo, all in order to avert our dread destiny and see some of London, before time runs out. We’re already over a month behind schedule, so who knows what’ll happen? Only one way to find out…