The show is called One Big Question. I’m guessing it’s aiming itself at millennials because the app seems to be at the heart of it. It can be used by people to play along at home, but here, in the studio, it’s what I can use to ask the public or the audience for help with answers.

I can’t actually believe my luck, but I’m on the final question – the titular one big question – and if I answer it correctly, I’ll win the money I’ve banked so far. A whopping £50,000.

‘I said, how would you like £50,000?’ Mike King, the host, asks again.

‘I’d love £50,000,’ I admit, my voice wobbling almost as much as I am on this tall chair.

If I’d known I was going to be chosen to take part today, I probably would have turned the opportunity down, even with the knowledge that I could win some serious money. I don’t think I would’ve thought I had it in me to get this far…

I’m somehow too hot and too cold. I want to say the studio lights are hot, but there’s cool air con to offset the warmth. I am sitting opposite the host in the centre of a brightly lit circle, in an otherwise dimly lit room. I can’t see the audience – I can’t even see the camera, not really. I only know they’re there now because of the little red LED lights I keep spotting. Even without them, I don’t think I’d be able to forget I was on TV. On live TV, no less.

‘This is your final question,’ Mike explains. ‘Who said blondes were dumb, huh?’

I smile politely. I have had to contend with the dumb blonde thing my entire life. First, when I was younger, when I had naturally blonde hair, and then more recently from all the highlights, because for some reason my hair gets darker as I get older.

‘Your only remaining lifeline is to make a call from your speed dial numbers,’ Mike reminds me.

When we started, I was allowed to select three numbers from my phone in the event of choosing the ‘make a call’ option. Without many friends or people who I even believed would answer, I chose my dad, Tim, Sam, and David. I don’t suppose any of them would know all that much about anything based in pop culture, but I think I have that covered myself. Anything on the life and works of Alan Titchmarsh, unscrupulous news practices, or bones, and one of them might be some use to me. I doubt my boss would appreciate me calling her on her husband’s birthday, so here’s hoping for the Chelsea Flower Show or cavemen. At least if it’s the latter, David’s lecture will be over and he’ll be able to take the call. My dad probably won’t even hear his phone ring.

‘Ready for it?’ Mike asks.

I nod unconvincingly.

‘OK, here we go… Which dinosaur had fifteen horns?’