When our friends from the Isle of Lewis popped in to see us in Edinburgh they brought two pets with them. Paddy the black and white collie dog bounded round the house in excitement. Meanwhile, attracted by the smell of maple syrup, Paul the cobra slipped down the corner drain in the front yard. When the ginger-bearded window and shutter cleaner outside confirmed that Paul had disappeared I worried that we would never see him again. It eventually turned out that my concerns were unfounded. Paul the cobra soon returned. Following his little adventure underground, he slid into the house and curled up to sleep in the round metal vegetable basket positioned by the porch door. He looked perfectly harmless. In fact, when I examined him more closely I realised that he was not a snake at all, but a bright green cloth draught excluder that had been tidied away to the wrong place.

Later it was revealed that our former ironing man was a highly sought commentator on the early history of punk. If only we knew where he could be found…