The day, for me, had been like any other, but when I arrived home for lunch, my mother and all her clients were in tears. I don’t remember whether anyone explained to me about the tips engulfing Aberfan’s Pantglas Junior School and the inevitability of death, but I do remember Mum hugging me very hard as the tears fell.

Our favorite was Steph’s, in Dean Street, run by the very flamboyant Steph. I was also a member of the Groucho Club, a few doors down, and we would retire there for early evening drinks when we had exhausted all conversation with whomever we descended upon at Steph’s (we once enjoyed a very jolly five-hour lunch with Tony Blackburn).