I keep on getting these flashbacks to the drinks parties my grandparents used to give when I was quite young.
I can practically smell the cigarette and cigar smoke, the loud foreign language chatter, the way the coats would all be piled up on the chairs around the dining room on the ground floor. The noise level was off the scale, no music, just talking very loudly, laughing, telling stories, very exuberant and happy.
There would be the noise radiating from the drawing room, so as I walked up and down the stairs with new guests we could hear it from the calm of the front door and the hall.
My brother and I used to help with opening the door and handing round the little things to eat. It seems like a vanished world now. I somehow assume that everyone else has these memories from when they were growing up, but of course they don't necessarily.