I’d had enough of this religious twaddle. “Listen”, I said “You may be American, but someone has to tell you all that (a) there is no God, and (b) we don’t go to heaven when we die”. As soon as I saw the sadness in their eyes, I immediately regretted my words. I needed to change the subject.

“Would anybody like to see my clothes collection?” I suggested, “It’s not that exciting, but you may be interested to see a range of garments from Phase Eight, Hobbs and Boden.”

A couple of women leapt out of their chairs and followed me to my wardrobe. My white silk Victorian nightie provided a perfect excuse to drop the contentious subject of religion.