There’s a pet shop down the road from where I live that has a large aquatic section. I don’t pretend to know anything about fish. My mother always fancied a few neon tetras and zebra fish but she was worried about what would happen to them in a power cut, so that was the end of that.

I always thought it would be pretty cool to fit a small fish tank inside an old boxy television set. You’d have to take the insides out of it first, of course, but it would look like, no matter what channel you picked, it was just – all fish, all the time.

I say I know nothing about fish but I’m doing myself a disservice there. I know enough to know that, if there was any tank maintenance to be done, lifting a fish tank out of an old telly would be rather time-consuming, complicated, and the charm would soon wear off.
I content myself with looking at the fish at the local pet shop.

My favourites, though, are not actually fish. The most spellbinding and wonderful of creatures in the wall of tanks is the African dwarf frog. It doesn’t matter whether we’re going in to buy hay for the bunnies or food for the axolotls, I will find my way over to the African dwarf frogs and just watch them for a few minutes. It’s not just a feeling of calm that washes over me when I see them, it’s a feeling of joy. They seem like plucky little fellas.