Within minutes the locksmith, who I later described to the police as looking like Bob the Builder, was joined by two blokes in another white van. I was wondering why my neighbour would choose to have her locks changed whilst she was out of the house, and why it took three men to do it – but those idle thoughts were in the deepest, darkest recesses of my truly enormous mind .

I  stopped curtain twitching and carried on with my morning. I wrote some book, interrogated my sister-in-law on the ‘phone about why she had put up her Christmas tree and stabbed oranges with cinnamon and cloves already when it was still  only November,  ate a slice of lemon drizzle cake and Googled how Hopi Ear Candles work .

 Meanwhile the three men were busy robbing next door.  Not locksmiths but burglars, and I am a crap detective.