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In the ten years I have rented in the private sector in London, I have had six landlords, nine flatmates, two section 21 eviction notices, two stints staying with friends to tide me over, one bedroom so damp mould grew on my clothes and one instance of fungi growing out of the ceiling. Some sickening maths suggests I have parted with around £115,000 in rent in the process. There is nothing particularly unusual about this. A fifth of households in the UK live in privately rented homes – dependent on the whims of often faceless landlords, powerless to demand repairs, unable to plan further ahead than the length of a tenancy. It can be an unpleasant, unsettling way to live.