It may or may not be killing me but getting home and opening a bottle of Young’s Ordinary just now is pure heaven. The beer’s at just the right temperature – R keeps it in the communal shed to make it slightly more difficult to access. Like most self-imposed barriers they tend to be a bit flimsy. One of us just phones the other one when we’re approaching the flat and they throw the keys down and Bob's your uncle. The shed does stay nice and cool though. So though the shed fails as an aid to temperance it succeeds as an aid to temperature.