It has to be said that I have had some unusual patrons in my time. Thus being a poet is often a rather fraught experience. One arrives to assist in a soiree and discovers that you are instead called upon to preside over an orgy, a brawl or even a séance.

But Madam S was one of the more interesting ladies. A quiet woman, seeking only peace and occasional solitude, she was constantly denied this by her husband and children. But as they do, her children left home, creating a small, brief, oasis of tranquillity before they started depositing grandchildren on her.

Her husband on the other hand took to spending more time at home as his work commitments eased (he was, in a rather grand way, a butcher, and his business was passing quietly into the hands of his son) and his love of building, tuning and playing barrel…