Graeme Garden sat opposite me in the waiting area at BBC Radio 4 reception. He was my host for the day. On the basis of my impressive track record of developing panel games, I’d been summoned to help create three new shows for the station. For the time being I just wished that Graeme could find a comfortable sitting position that would hide his display of elasticated stockings. I could see them reach all the way up to the hem of his mini-skirt. Then I remembered that beneath my apparently respectable attire I was wearing no underwear at all…

Afterwards TPR and I struggled to get home again by train. Waiting (naked) for hours on the station platform I got so desperately cold that I was forced to “borrow” a lavender cashmere coat from a public coat rack. Still the train didn’t come, and now we were bound to miss our connection at Birmingham New Street. When a series of cars and a lorry came hurtling down the track pursued by a police convoy we understood the reason for the delay. Criminals had taken to the British rail network as their daring getaway route. As a consequence all train services were now cancelled indefinitely.

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My school friend KM was making a fresh start in life. When she told a stranger that she had no desire ever to have children, I was both curious and shocked. What about her daughter? It appeared that KM had tired of motherhood and given up her only child for adoption.