The economic fact of the situation [marital separation] was I had to sell up this house in Victoria Road and give it to Olive for her to buy a house down in Totland Bay, Isle of Wight.
So, I was homeless. I was 40, I was homeless. After all that time in the Far East, there I was – stuck. But I knew... I knew various chaps around, who were kind of… not exactly menial, but they had odd jobs, and one of them was a big man... I've forgotten his name, unfortunately... who had recently married a woman who lived in the extremes of North Oxford, and who was no less than the daughter of Edgar Wallace.
She was broke too, but at least she was living in the house, and he inspected peoples' gas meters. I'm sorry I can't remember his name because he was very nice, and he and I used to meet in a cheap Indian restaurant quite often and have conversations together. And so I went to him, and I knew he had various rooms for rent, and so he rented me a house in Paradise Square.
Now, Paradise Square I think has possibly vanished now, or turned into a car park or one of these fates that befalls squares of an impoverished Victorian nature. But, anyhow, he rented me a room with a window looking onto the square, and there I lived and I had a bed in there, just that one room.
And every now and then, I would go down and see my children.