Dressed in old stone-washed jeans and a tatty T shirt, and carrying a 4 litre plastic bottle of milk, I ran from my grandmother’s bungalow to the meeting venue.

I felt very out of place, and somewhat ashamed, when I saw the other members of the committee in their suits and smart dresses. And why ever did I think that my fellow committee members would appreciate the gift of a bottle of milk when there was a full trolley of refreshments in the meeting room?

I made a quick apology and scarpered back to my grandmother’s house so that I could change and rejoin the meeting in more appropriate, professional, dress.

By the time that I returned to meeting room, however, the only person left there was the chair. Furious, she had sent everyone else home because none of them had correctly completed the advance paperwork for the meeting.