I used to have an apartment in Folgate Street, London. Dennis Severs was my immediate neighbour.
I loved living in Folgate Street. It was a five minute walk across Bishopsgate to my Merrill Lynch office in the middle of the City, while my private life was embedded in the most versatile and wonderful layers of London history. At the opposite corner of my flat, I passed Jack the Ripper's sites of crime to visit my Huguenot, Jewish, Bangladeshi or English East Ender friends at Hanbury Street or Brick Lane or.