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Suddenly I heard a noise which made me stop in my tracks. Against the banging of loose doors in the
slight wind, and the rhythmic dripping of water from broken guttering and skylights, was the unmistakeable
noise of another person inside the building. The crunch of broken fluorescent tubes and building debris underfoot
was a classic, instantly recognisable noise within derelict buildings and one which I’d just heard from the other end of the corridor.
Luckily I was close to one of the exterior doors and so gingerly crept out into the warm sunlight. I had arranged to meet
Tom here, and he’d warned me that he’d be late, but I always assumed I’d hear the throaty roar of his Capri when he
arrived, so would be forewarned and prepared. (In fact, I’d been keeping an ear out for it). So I wasn’t sure if it was him or not.
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Cleared and widened access road. View from the Photographic Factory to the main road, new roundabout and discretely parked car. © Simon Cornwell 2009
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