Charlotte Mooney

And meanwhile, I went and called the police.

They said, find out his name, we'll send a car.

And I called my friend, whose mum had had dementia, and she said, just talk to him, Charlotte.

Make sure he doesn't get distressed.

So I hunkered down on the curb next to him and introduced myself.

His name was Leslie.

He had three children, Poppy and two sons, but their names changed as we talked.

He used to be a mechanic in Dagenham.

He was a good mechanic, and he had a good car, a Mercedes.

And if I asked him anything else, he'd start to get a bit twitchy and anxious, like, why are we talking, why aren't we going?

So I would go back to the boot and fiddle around for a bit, and then I'd come back and we'd have the same conversation again.

Poppy, Dagenham, mechanic, Mercedes.

And as long as I stuck to that, he didn't get distressed.

He sat there, straight back, nibbling bits of apple peel, and just watching the traffic pass.

As far as he was concerned, I was finding the address, and we were going to be leaving any minute.

Eventually, after about three hours, the police rang back.

They said, there's no one lost by that name, take him to a local police station.

The moment I started the engine, it's like he came to life.

He was literally stroking the dashboard.

He said, this is a good car.