It is one of those cold, wet winter days consumed by grey. Where the sky seems to reach right down to the pavements and gardens in one vast wash of greyness. If I had a view of the sea at this moment the sea and sky would be indistinguishable from one another, just all grey, the kind of picture perfect for making a really tricky jigsaw puzzle from. I am in a loft room in the east midlands at present – a sea view a geographical impossibility. There are three roof windows cut out of the sloping ceilings, two on one side of the apex, one on the other, and the colour of sky is exactly the same shade in each. Farrow and Ball would list it on their paint chart as ‘nondescript grey’. Or perhaps just, ‘nondescript’.