I took this photograph last year, on a visit to the Gloucestershire village Frampton on Severn. With its village cricket green, thatched cottages and trapped-in-amber quaintness, it’s a Tory fantasy of what England once was. and should always be, but for me there’s something slightly sinister about the way the clocks have been stopped, with the only signs of modern life being the flash cars in the pub car park. It reminds me of the village in The Prisoner in a way, whereas the front of this house could have been used in Road Dahl’s Tales of the Unexpected. Who knows what could be waiting behind that door.