Meanwhile, though, he would provide a new, sturdy, safe ladder to the upper floor and we, ourselves, would do the work needed on the mill itself to allow us to move in there as soon as possible. We had no idea where to start! Neither of us were DIY enthusiasts – indeed, people tended not to be, then. Labour was cheap and people of our parents’ generation would “get a man in to do it”!

Which reminds me of my father-in-law’s comment when, a few years later, he saw me cleaning the kitchen floor.

“I would never allow a lady to go down on her knees to scrub the floor,” he said as he watched me.

“Oh, really, Arthur. What would you do?”

“I’d get a woman in to do it!” the bankrupt boasted.

So, even if Peter’s health had been better, the refurbishing of the mill would have been beyond us.

Yvonne suggested we might call in a bricklayer who had helped them in his spare time, and who lived at the end of the road in one of the new post-war council houses, so Peter called in to number 19 to ask for Graham Tramaseur, and brought him back to look the job over.

He was a stocky man with tow coloured hair, pale blue eyes, and a wide, smiling mouth who exuded confidence. We showed him our plans and explained what we had to do.

“The first job will be to get rid of that rotten floor,” he said. “I’ll bring my tools up tomorrow evening and give you a hand. It won’t take long.”

Sure enough, before it got dark, there was time to rip them all out and throw them down. My job would be to clear all the mess up during the day.

“Be careful of the nails,” Graham said, looking askance at my bare feet. “Most of the beams are sound – reused ship’s timbers I would think. I’ll just take a look at the large main ones that go into the walls. Ah yes, look, there’s a good core of really solid oak. They will certainly last your time. The only ones that have to come out are the small ones round the trap doors. I’ll have those out. There’s been a bit of worm of course but I don’t think it’s live. Tomorrow, Saturday, I’ll come up in the afternoon, and if you buy me a large sulphur candle or two in the morning, we’ll fumigate the place and get rid of the chicken mites.”