I climbed out of bed and stepped across the room to open the shutters. Outside our bedroom window I saw a small dog in a bright red Santa jacket nosing through the vegetable patch, and a man – presumably the dog’s owner – levitating six feet above the lawn in a horizontal pose.

By the time that TPR joined me at the window, the man and dog had vanished. In their place was a female fox and her four cubs, all busy digging up the flower beds. The fox family took fright the moment that they realised that we were watching them. They scarpered over the back wall and escaped into the next garden.

Another set of intruders replaced the foxes. These were my gym pal RR, her teenage daughter, and a toddler. RR refused to tell me how they accessed the garden. When she and her children made no move to leave, I insisted that they follow me through the house and out onto the street through our front door. Instead RR used her strong arm and leg muscles to scale the wall next to the fruit trees, with the children in her wake.

I chased after them, falling into RR’s carefully laid trap. Still dressed only in my pyjamas, I found myself on a ferry heading towards a remote Scottish island. Without a phone or any cash, I had no means of alerting TPR of my whereabouts.

RR, outside on the deck enjoying a joke with fellow passengers, was unlikely to help me. My only triumph was to steal her grey padded jacket when she was not looking. At least I’d be warm when we reached our final destination.