TopGear runs Heathrow

At the end of the day, and after some more patrolling, I pull up at the Royal Suite, a little private terminal for kings, queens and dignitaries. Turns out they were expecting me: the red carpet is already laid out. Usually it stretches to the steps of a private jet or Air Force One, but today it meets the open scissor door of an Italian supercar. I clamber out, stroll regally down the carpet and up the steps in search of Her Majesty's conveniences. But when I reach the door, a white figure emerges from inside and snatches the keys from my fist. He looks quizzically at the carpet, sidesteps onto the tarmac and strides towards the car. The Stig. S'pose he has to go somewhere between telly shows. Probably chases the crows around at night. So, please do us a favour. Keep an eye out for him the next time you fly here. Report sightings immediately. Our friends at Lamborghini would very much like their car back...

(Words: Dan Read, Pictures: Rowan Horncastle)