“Veritable luxury, compared to some of the places I had to sleep in the army, my dear. It’ll be an adventure!”

I wasn’t so convinced anyone really needed an adventure like that and I also wasn’t quite sure about having to share quarters that close, but I’d figured that, by that stage, I’d have plenty of other things to worry about. Also, it didn’t seem like there was an alternative so there we were.

Thanks to Leonard’s preloaded directions on Google Maps, we navigated our way through the city and over to Leith with surprising ease. But finding the Soft Fudge itself proved a little more tricky, because even having the street name and number isn’t all that helpful when the majority of the signs have been bent or graffitied out of recognition. When we turned into what half a street sign dangling from a post declared was ngton Stree, it looked like as close to a clue as we were going to get. We crawled along (presumably) Kensington Street and pulled up in front of (apparently) number 14. I decided on the spot that if the last week had taught me anything it was a) never to believe what you read on Trip Advisor, and b) never be fooled into thinking that booking-site photos are even in the same neighborhood as reality. Or in the case of the Soft Fudge Guesthouse, on the same planet.

Norman and I leaned sideways in the car to get a closer look at the place, and I could see Leonard’s foot hovering over the accelerator. For a moment I considered suggesting he floor it and Google Map us right back out of town, but then a car behind us tooted impatiently and he drove on a little way and pulled over into the only empty parking space to let it pass. In the end, the Austin made its own decision, elegantly stalling the engine and jerking us all forward to a dramatic stop. Clearly we had arrived.

I wouldn’t have expected to see all lights blazing at that time of the night, but when we unloaded our bags and walked the short distance back to number 14 the place was in total darkness and there was more than a whiff of abandonment about it. I’d been emailed a confirmation with a code to the key safe, but while with any luck there was going to be a lock on our room, we certainly didn’t need a key for the front door. It was wide-open and looked like it was hanging on by a cobweb. It wouldn’t have stood a chance against Jax, but at least it would have been a quick way out of its misery.

Norman retrieved the keys, which, thankfully, were exactly where they were supposed to be, and the three of us stepped into the abyss of the Soft Fudge. According to the handwritten note attached to the keys, we were to head up the stairs to the Caramel Suite. We did as we were told and opened a door to both good and bad news.