Twenty years after the affair ended, I was once again dating T. The truth of the matter was I was operating undercover. T’s extended family were trailer-park villains. One-by-one they were being killed off. I watched them closely over several weeks. Through a combination of observation, logic and superior intellect, I identified the killer – none other than T’s rough and ready mother, all rolled up sleeves and tattooes. I called my handler at Scotland Yard and set up a big ‘reveal’ scene at the cinema. When the inspector walked in, I was bursting to unmask my mother-in-law. However, in a bizarre plot-twist, the detective arrested and handcuffed me. I couldn’t believe this. Was I the murderer? I hadn’t seen that coming!

Later, working for Mary Portas, we ensured fashion students were distracted by the sparklers we inserted into their puddings and drinks so that the silent strangler could go about his work.

LB, an old school friend and heavily pregnant, drove us through traffic. She couldn’t remember if we drove on the left or right in the UK so she kept weaving through traffic. Through the windscreen I could see the pylons forming enormous sculptures. However, when I looked out the of the back of the car, they became invisble.