Well, only up to a point. Sean admits that Lynn has slightly different tastes when it comes to interiors, and exerted her influence particularly in the kitchen. “I had to make some concessions,” he says happily. By the time the Griffiths family was installed and I went back to check on progress, it was true that the downstairs spaces in particular were showing little of the larky domestic symbolism that define the exterior. Apart, that is, from a sort of minstrel’s gallery-cum-fireplace overlooking the kitchen from the turn of the stairs, with hearts carved out of the woodwork in Arts and Crafts mode. Nostalgia is a potent, and architecturally taboo, weapon.

Because I had previously worked with FAT (in the guise of fictive client) on a blue-sky project known as “house for a dysfunctional family” which satisfyingly reinvented the suburban semi, I was intrigued to see what Griffiths would cook up for himself. It is far from dysfunctional. Indeed, it is positively cosy, a dulce domum worthy of Mole in Wind in the Willows. It is also relatively simple, with just a few clever moves making it unique. Behind that wisecracking façade is a tall, rectangular, practical block with a tiny yard at one side - which could be car parking, but will be used as a garden. Inside, the downstairs consists of interlinked living and kitchen/dining areas, which open up to the garden via folding glass doors. It’s that old architectural trick of the “outdoor room”. You’ll also find a small bathroom on the ground floor.