“Sod it” I thought as I perused the wardrobe for a couple of garments to wear - it was getting warm in here, but it would certainly still be icy midwinter outside – “it’s not my house, why should I care?” The only crushing disappointment was that I’d not have time to raid the freezer for breakfasting snacks. The Secretary can be negotiated into doing virtually anything in exchange for a frozen sausage, and I had a strange pain in my trachea which I suspected he would have been able to cure. As I strolled out of the inferno I reasoned it would be best to hole up in the woods for a few hours until the heat – literally – died down, and I could check the ashen remains of the domicile for unspoilt consumables.