The underwear crisis struck in a rented house in Corbridge, Northumberland. My black bra was still wet from handwashing. I couldn’t wear it in this state, but I did not have a spare. What was I to do?

PB’s girlfriend had a solution. I could wear her spare bra, a lovely lacy number in lilac. While I appreciated the kind offer, I knew that this would not work. PB’s girlfriend was a lot bigger than me. Indeed, she was enormous.

Imagine my shame (and horror) when I discovered that the proferred garment fitted my upper torso perfectly.