When I was in my mid-teens, about forty five years ago, I spent a week on holiday with my gran, visiting an old childhood friend of hers.
Mrs. Cook, gran’s friend, lived in a small cottage in rural Glamorgan, Wales. Water had to be drawn from a pump outside the cottage. Needless to say, toilet facilities were pretty basic. She kept the house nice and warm during the day with a red-hot coal fire but it could get pretty chilly at night. As the cottage was so small, gran and I had to share a bed – a big, old fashioned brass affair. It was also very practical because, being townies, we weren’t used to the cold and could benefit from the shared warmth. Of course, when I first found out about the sleeping arrangements, I was a bit shocked and nervous. As it turned out, it was one of the best things that ever happened to me...

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