Every time that I walked into the sitting room, the two sofas were arranged in a different way from before: both pushed against the window; one upside down, one upright; one next to the radiator the right way up, the other balanced on one end against the door to the kitchen.

How could this be? My mother, who was the last person in the room, didn’t even have the strength to lift a cushion.

When I reported all this to TPR, he concluded that there must be a burglar in the house. I walked into the hall to ring the police.