So that is that. Britain no longer generates electricity by burning coal. No more getting up before dawn on frosty mornings to capture the dawn through the steam of the cooling towers. No more looking to the north and seeing the plume cloud climbing high, high into the stratosphere. The clouds slowly being blown eastwards towards mainland Europe. All gone. No More.

What awaits the beating heart of the East Midlands? I don’t know. What I do know it is unlikely to have anything like the symbolic pull on my soul as Ratcliffe.