We won! We won! We won!

We were in court for 2pm this afternoon. This time the lawyers had with them a representative of the building's owners - pure Monte Carlo, his hair and skin a uniform sickly yellow, his slicked-back hair thinning - the process server, and three men who we were told were involved in the building's planned development. After their earlier ineptitude, the lawyers now clearly had to get the job done.

The judge was the same one we'd had when evicted from Upper Grosvenor Street. He started by attacking the lawyers for having failed to serve papers properly for the first hearing. They seemed startled by this - it was unexpected, a champion boxer hit hard in a fight's opening seconds. I felt a momentary hope.

Court cases, I'm learning, have all the thrill of pot limit Omaha, with ones view of ones fortunes changing instant by instant. When the judge turned to us, it was to politely but speedily destroy our defence, which was well-written, cogently argued, but lacking any merit in law. He offered us a five minute adjournment in case we could up with anything else, and said now was our chance to say whatever we might like. We had no further points to make in our defence, but offered thanks for the use of the building and said we had tried to do something special.

The judge then summed up, stating that the claimant had proved ownership of the building and would be granted possession forthwith. But he said he recognised we had not damaged the building - an accurate but generous statement since he's never been inside - and that he saw we'd made beneficial use of it.

On the way out, Steph asked the lawyer if he could tell us when the bailiffs would come. Oh, first thing tomorrow morning, he said. Oh bum - they'd applied to the High Court! This is more expensive but gives a speedier resolution than having to wait for county court bailiffs, who as with Upper Grosvenor Street can take months to arrive. Well, we did know they'd quite like their building back.

We'd agreed beforehand that when we left the courthouse we'd deliriously whoop "We won! We won! We won!"; and so we did, hugging and cheering and embracing. We told the one waiting reporter that we'd been awarded ownership of the building on some technicality, but I'm not sure he believed us. There were no waiting photographers - Park Lane having taken their attention - and we made our way home unmolested.

We had spent much of last night packing, but still have much to do. Moving house is never easy.