Last night my poor, broke boyfriend and I went round to see my ex-boyfriend's stunning new house. Or rather his two new houses. Not satisfied with building one gorgeous house in ritzy Clerkenwell Green, he built two and knocked them through into one. So we had dinner last night on one of his patios - barbecued mackerel may just be my new favourite food, darling.

The house is like something out of Architects' Journal: interconnected, sleek boxes. Low profile, anonymous exterior giving way to light-filled airy spaces opening onto two courtyards. We oohed and aahed and sipped our wine as he showed us round, admiring the blonde wood, the kirk stone floors, the skylights with their remote-controlled blinds. We tried not to feel inferior as he wondered aloud whether he should rent out the other house he owns in central London; the one built in 1781.

Then we took the last tube back to Kilburn. But my place has unique architectural features, too. As you shall shortly see...