He would pop into our house and he could be quite shocked by me when I was wearing a dressing gown on a Saturday morning having had a little bit of a lie in and… ‘what, not up yet?’ and so on. He was quite critical of this, gently rebuking me, I felt. The following Saturday I thought, I must get out, get up early enough and not be caught by Jim. So he was quite firm about things like that but also he would like to wander round and tell us where to put things and how to hang things and tell us little tiny tips, like I said, like when I was in the flat, when we were in the flat in Magdalene Street about how to not have the flap of our 18th century folky oak table, not having the flap down but deliberately putting it up and pulling the legs out that held it up, underneath it, because although it made a wider surface in a small room, it opened up and therefore gave a better sense of space. These kind of things. He was horrified by the chairs that some friend of my mother’s had temporarily given us, they were rather ugly-looking little chairs and he came around with his own cloth and covered them all, these dreadful objects. Oh, really, I was quite under his sway and Jean [Barrington Ward] was very willing to be too. We both entered into the vision really.