Wilf, Christina, Michael, and Luckin the police horse were all in the last-minute queue for British Gas shares yesterday.
There was, at the very end, not a sign of the wretched Sid. By then his work was done. The selling of British Gas culminated in the sort of panic that brings office boys and former Cabinet ministers together, queuing in the City to deliver applications for shares at something approaching the last minute.
It reached its symbolic end when, six seconds before the 10am deadline, Mr Wilfred Pickard panted into the National Westminster Bank╒s office in Princes Street in time to apply for 8,000 shares.
It had been one of those days. ╥The seconds were bitten away,╙ said Mr Pickard, who lives in Bayswater, and works as deputy city editor of the Yorkshire Post.
Christina Fleekenstein, a 23-year-old au pair, achieved a similar sort of calm ╤ although in her case a little bewildered innocence helped.
Mr Michael Thomas, an unemployed engineering graduate, was woken by a chance telephone call at 9.20am, and arrived in time to apply for ú1,000 worth of shares.
Luckin, who serves with the City Police, was on duty in case of unseemly scenes.
