I had expected the whole thing to take years and years or simply turn out to be a load of old beer talk when all was said and done – like Lance Corporal War Hero from the Lamb. But sure enough, only seven weeks after it had first been mooted, CT and an assortment of cameramen, sound engineers and clipboard-tickers showed up in shiny new hard hats, brand-new Toe Tecs and designer donkey jackets to bring the whole site to an almighty great grinding halt. I guess CT must’ve seen this sort of thing before because the first thing he did was call a meeting of everyone who’d agreed to take part in the documentary (which was everyone) to introduce his people and to urge us to ignore them from that moment onwards. ‘You don’t have to pretend we’re not here, just try to forget why we’re here,’ CT told the assembled congregation. ‘It’ll be hard at first, but the more time that goes by, the more you’ll get used to us until you’ll hardly notice the cameras at all.’ Robbie put his hand up.
