We visited widower K in a Yorkshire village. He, along with his two small sons and daughter, seemed to be coping well since the death of his wife. I noticed that the little girl’s nails needed cutting, but she knew this and assured me that she would deal with it herself.

One of the attractions of K’s village was its famous view of the moon. TPR and I climbed the steep hill to check it out. We returned by abseiling down a perilous cliff face, clinging for dear life to the rope that held us.

When we entered the tourist information office back in the village centre the man on the desk issued us with tickets for our moon walk. “That will be £27 each” he said. I refused to pay on the basis that looking at the moon was free of charge. He responded that dodging the charge was as heinous a crime as rape. He was quite taken aback with the tirade of feminist fury that his comment prompted.