Stairway to heaven
"But our angel is right in the middle of the room. With a dirty face. In a tattered velvet cap and green overalls. Transforming our lives with a swoosh of sparks and a lot of grinding industrial noise."

"Where London builders feared to tread, Jeremy Schrecker, metal sculptor and part-time miracle worker from Shrewsbury, glided effortlessly in, spreading sweetness, light, beauty and truth. "It needs some curves, doesn't it?" he said calmly, looking at the crazed collection of broken-elbow bends. And when he saw how the giant pipe at its centre just stops near the top of the house leaving a great big black hole, he said, even more calmly: "How about a sculpture to go on top? I have lots.""

"Without giving away any commercial secrets, I should add that our relationship isn't wickedly expensive. This sculptor, with his passion for materials and shapes and the flow and solving technical problems, doesn't go in for price escalation - the beady eye, the wagging head, the noughts after noughts added to a once-modest total. There is virtue in the world."

"If Londoners did know that this potential saviour had appeared quietly in their midst, they'd be down on their knees praying for him to come to them too."

"So I'm not giving out his number. This is my personal heaven, and I'm not sharing my archangel. Why would I? After all, I'm a Londoner too."
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