"I have a strong memory of being a boy in a car driving along a country road in Suffolk," recalls a man who I will call Adam. "Rounding a corner near home, we swerved, narrowly avoiding a milk float. The milk float ended up on its side, covering the road in milk. I can still picture the road, a large oak tree and the milk sloshing about, despite the fact that the boy in the car was my father. I have never lived in Suffolk."