My God, had he fallen over the railing?
I walked around the platform, scanning the ground and fearing the worst. If he'd fallen over the edge how was he ever going to go bald, have children and become atrophied by responsibility?
Fortunately his face appeared in the doorway. 'God', he said. 'How can you stand out there? Let's go down quick. I can't stand heights.'
So, somewhere between claustrophobia and a fear of heights, our mission to climb the tower was a great success. Maybe someone should build a monument to us after all. But something a bit shorter with lots of room inside.
And on a public footpath.