Section 65 is just off Oxford Street
The hotel was grand enough. But at £125 per night for a single room, and £4.00 for a small bottled beer at the Glen Miller Bar, the smoked glass mirrors and carpets as thick as meadow grass were an inadequate compensation. Although he had to admit that the hotel’s close proximity to London’s Oxford Street, with doormen who wore top hats and coat tails, lent a certain cachet, he felt he might just as well have been a doorman as a delegate. He had about as much chance of exciting the recruiting schools as one might have selling punishment canes, blackboard chalk or spectrum computers. No-one was looking for a Beliefs and Values Teacher. A divorced one at that.
Check out the right royal slide into madness on The Novel page