Earlier today I had an errand to do which involved taking a rather large sum of cash to the bank. (My idea of what constitutes a “large sum” may not be yours.) Pansy Cradledew fretted that I might be waylaid by malefactors and ne’er-do-wells, so when I got back – safe and sound – I sent her a reassuring message. I swear on my mother’s life* that every word of this is true.

Just a note to let you know that as I was leaving the bank, several chaps in stocking masks burst in waving firearms and shouting at everyone to get on the floor. I executed a quick tableau vivant of a scene from Die Hard (John McTiernan, 1988), and the villains were so awestruck by the verisimilitude of my pose that they were stunned, staring goggle-eyed and dropping their guns. After that it was a simple enough matter to summon Detective Captain Cargpan and his rufty tufty henchmen, who placed them under arrest while I sashayed off to catch the bus.

*NOTA BENE : Ms Cradledew has asked me to point out that my mother died twenty years ago, a fact which she says utterly invalidates my swearage. That may well be so, but I know my onions.