When I was a child, I lived in a house that my mum and dad bought from new. They were the only owners that house had ever had, and as my mum still lives there, she remains so. It never occurred to me to imagine anyone else that had slept in my bedroom (and it still is MY bedroom, despite the fact that I am now in my forties). Later, I lived in a 1930s mansion block. It had all the original windows and doors, and this is where my obsession with what has been before was born.