Our new neighbours were BP, SF and their two daughters. Amongst the upgrades to their new flat, they completely renovated the kitchen, putting in the most enormous range oven. When my sister J called in, BP served her a plate of roast chicken and vegetables straight from the hob.

‘Who made this gravy?’ J asked. With one glance at her plate, I could understand her question. The thin grey trickle across the cooked chicken breast was hardly appetising.

Later that day, when the family went out for a walk, I broke into the flat. Armed with an Oxo cube and some fresh herbs, I would make some decent gravy, serve it to the family on their return, then teach them my winning technique.