At the start of the sixties, JFK promised the American people America would have a man on the moon by the end of the decade. That promise was met. Just. At the start of the eighties, our seventy-something Polish Jew landlord, Ted Sobranski, promised all his tenants they’d have hot water by the beginning of the nineties, and they did. But unlike JFK, Sobranski was around to see his prophecy realised. Like the moon landings however, there remained a doubt as to the authenticity of this hot water.

2nd of September, 1989. Maltese Joe, wiping the sweat from his brow, cautiously lit the ascot water heater pilot with a match. Joe, having removed his denim body warmer during what had been a difficult installation of the heater above our kitchen sink, now stepped back. There was a loud bang. Joe turned round and gave us a nervous smile. Then he approached the heater again, its pilot now lit, and turned the hot tap on.

Behind him, at least a dozen of Sobranski’s tenants, my mum and I included, gathered to watch. Sobranski, using a small child to shield himself from any potential explosion, told the other tenants they should feel honoured that they had been invited to watch history being made. For Cape Canaveral, read Stockwell. Meanwhile, another tenant performed, at Sobranski’s bequest, magic tricks to keep the kids entertained.

Twenty minutes later, Joe excitedly told us that the water was [finally] “getting warm”, upon which point an equally excited Sobranski proclaimed that now that the installation’s success was beyond doubt, he would install an ascot water heater in all of his properties [He chose not to tell us that this was would mean another rent rise].

And he was true to his word.