I’d turned their spare bedroom into a teenage tip and now I’d managed to destroy the whole plumbing system by attempting to hand-wash a hanky. As I pulled the sitting room basin away from the wall, torrents of cold water came pouring through the ceiling. C ran upstairs to find the source of the flood, while A looked on in despair.

Eventually help arrived in the form of a bespectacled cub scout. I doubted that I would ever be invited back to Market Harborough.