The few times I was allowed to go with my parents to socialise at other SW17 houses, I was always amazed where the drinks where kept.

In our flat, if you were a visitor, you’d assume my family were sponsored by Bell’s or Gordon’s.

The drink wasn’t stored in some fancy cabinet; in our flat, it was in the mandatory brown sideboard, next to dad’s old Chelsea programmes.

In other peoples’ places the Black & Decker had been working overtime as one wall had been transformed into a small bar – albeit without the dartboard and cardboard sleeve of packets of pork scratchings.

One family had a globe.  The globe would open up and a selection of alcoholic beverages were instantly displayed – I assumed Marco Polo had a similar container?  I tried spinning it once and nearly broke my wrist.  Although, only until recently, I thought gin came from Abyssinia (it was an old globe) and Soda Stream was a lake in Africa.

Some families had clearly won decanters at various fetes; many had collected glasses from Esso.  In 1970, they may have swapped them for a card featuring Martin Peters.

Once, trying to help out, I thought I’d move the pineapple off the Borrowers-sized bar; having picked it up by the top, ice-cubes suddenly scattered to all parts of the shagpile. 

For the remainder of the evening I was condemned to sit, and not move, by the Dansette record player.  It’s not unusual.