The kitchen was a cosy room at the back of the house where I spent many hours enjoying Gran’s company while Mum coped with the little ones. There was a fire, which Gran banked up at night, and in the centre of the room was a table, white and well scrubbed, covered with a brownish chenille tablecloth if no baking was being done. In the corner was a cupboard under the stairs, my favourite place to play. When I think about it now I go cold as one of my games was to crawl down to the end of this cupboard and make a camp. I would then light a candle and toast cheese on a fork! There never was a fire, but it could easily have happened.