She grabs the letter and reads it. I have been invited by Prime Minister Gordon Brown to take part in a private, early-morning discussion about science and its place in our future. It is very select, and those chosen to participate handpicked for their unique knowledge and abilities. Clearly, there is some kind of threat to the earth's future. Perhaps a meteorite! Hence the urgent task force!

'It doesn't say "task force" here,' says my wife, which is typical. 'It says "discussion".'

'Oh, come on! It's a task force! Gordon Brown is assembling a task force and he wants me to be in it! There's clearly a meteorite!'

'The phrase "task force" is literally never once mentioned,' she says. 'But a "discussion" is good! You're going to have a discussion with the Prime Minister!'

It's a task force, I think. Women are terrible at reading between the lines.

'So what are you going to do?' she says. 'What are you going to wear?'

'A suit!' I say. 'I'm moving in different circles now! I'll be hobnobbing at Downing Street with the nation's top boffins! Maybe I'm a boffin! Maybe that's why Gordon Brown has chosen me to be in his A-Team!'

'Again, it never once mentions an "A-Team".'

'It doesn't have to! Gordon knows we read between the lines!'

'Boffins?'

'Men!'

I choose which suit to send to the dry cleaners and I e-mail my RSVP.

As I await further instructions, I ponder why Gordon sees me as the key to taking science into the twenty-first century. Hey - not just that: maybe even saving the world!

'He probably saw that episode of Horizon I presented recently,' I consider. 'He probably decided there and then he needed my help. That is why we're to have this private discussion at Downing Street. That, and the meteorite.'

I make a pompous face and pick up the suit I've chosen for the dry cleaners.

But who else will be there? I wonder. It can't simply be me and Gordon. We'll get nothing done! I only got a C for GCSE science, and while he's good at maths, that's not quite enough to save the world, is it?

I decide that Hawking will probably bumble in at some point, and I try and think of some other famous scientists, but all I can think of is Newton, and I've not heard about him in ages.

And then an e-mail arrives.

'Have you had your suit dry-cleaned?' asks my wife, later. 'And how about Downing Street? Have you heard who else will be there?'

I nod.

'Well?' she says. 'Who else is in this "task force"?'

I am pleased she is finally calling it a task force, but can't help but feel I'm about to let her down.

'Well, it's me ...'I say, 'Tim Lovejoy ...'

She smiles, encouragingly.

'... and Jon Tickle from Big Brother 4.'