I used to live next door to Matthew Freud. He kept pigs in the garden, just running free with some chickens and a goat. They would throw enormous parties, and the whole street and the road at the back of our house would fill with ridiculously expensive cars. There'd be loud music and all kinds of lights that you could just see over the walls. One of our neighbours was an angry old lady who was the kind of nosy old biddy who lives for complaining about any and everything, and would literally go through our garbage to see if there was anything in there she could tut at us about - she lived in a cottage just over the wall from Freud and Murdoch and apparently she would raise hell and complain about their loud parties. So they offered to buy her house to get her to shut up. She said no, so they sent her a fruit basket. She hated them, and told me she was trying to get her quiet revenge on them by chucking bird feed over their wall so the birds would go and shit in their garden. She didn't use the word shit though. I know none of that's relevant to this but just reminded me of my brief slight brush with the strange and ludicrously wealthy.