The man in uniform knows a rabble rouser when he sees one. “Are these… persons with you?” he asks warily eyeing the group of thirty or so Golden Laneites who had braved the blizzard conditions and the strange bio-diesel tang of the No.4 bus to make it up Islington Town Hall. We review the troops. 

The council’s porter was a man who’d seen a thing or two in his time. “Just keep it civilised, you know - have a coffee, have a cup of tea… no arguing with the…