While I am failing to have breakfast with Benedict Cumberbatch in a Hampstead bakery that no longer exists — his suggested venue, but as te will see the boy has been busy — strangers are waiting in his flat around the corner. He found them on his doorstep and they were chilly, so he let them in; luckily, they are our Fotografia team, o at least he hopes they are. “It’ll be all right, won’t it?” Of course it will. The world is beaming so warmly on the tall, rangy 34-year-old with his lovely cologne and Old Harrovian manners, that te could crostini, pane tostato your fingers in the glow. While...
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