I flew back to London for Christmas, which always may be my last spent with my very elderly cancer survivor mother. After disembarking from the plane, I made my way to baggage collection. As I waited by the conveyer belt, I looked to my side and saw three customs officers standing at the door watching me and grinning. I ignored them, then glanced back a couple of minutes later as I continued to wait for my luggage. They were still staring at me and grinning. One was a tall bespectacled middle-aged man with little hair left on his head. After I collected my trolly and walked past them through the ‘Nothing To Declare’ exit, he nudged his colleague and whispered something to him while continuing to look back at me smirking.