Come and see the toad, said seven-year-old Charlie. I humoured him by walking down the steps into our Pimlico road. There, sure enough, was a large toad. A real one. (It s a sad reflection on the times that our eldest son, William, thought it was a toad-shaped security device installed by the tenant in our basement flat.) How on earth did it get there? The nearest toad-supporting habitat is St George s Square but only a very lucky toad could have hopped across two London roads without being flattened.
William s unfortunate penchant for dropping defunct computers from our balcony to see what will happen has broken the cover to the rainwater drain; but a toad could hardly have made the foot-high vertical leap from the water surface. Besides, do toads live in sewers? Surely not.
A bird must have dropped it, proposes one friend. Or perhaps it was discarded by a child, who got tired of it, suggests another. Next day, the toad had gone, as mysteriously as it appeared. Toads are meant to be witches familiars. I think Prof McGonagall has been having fun with me.
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Dawn Chorus: A Blue Plaque for Marc Bolan, holidaying in the Caribbean with Francis Ford Coppola and a history of the National Gallery in 25 picturesPlus the best of the property pages, and how the railways will save the countryside.
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Game, set, match: 12 of the world’s most beautiful tennis courtsFrom Italy to Indonesia, when it comes to hotel amenities, a picturesque tennis court will always trump a 24-hour gym. So, before you book your next holiday, take a look at our pick of the 12 best.
