ABSTRACT
To 59 Constantine Road we went, just down the hill from Hampstead village towards college. In fact, except in the stern cartographic judgement of residents of the village, Constantine Road N.W.3 was within Hampstead. Not so good as up the hill with Michael Foot, but all the amenities. A primary school of repute at one end of the street and the Bombay Tandoori Restaurant at the other – where the 24 bus started and ended its route through what Time magazine had proclaimed as Swinging London. The house was three storeys, in a tolerable terrace. Again with room for a lodger, and again we carried out what was regarded as an advance. This was the knocking of two downstairs rooms into one, throwing in the entrance hall for good measure. Liberated and faintly outré touches were added. In place of floor-bound seating in the principal bedroom, there were two hanging chairs of wicker, suspended from the ceiling by me.
