I sit on my chair in stunned silence. The host is in silence. The audience is in silence. I imagine everyone watching at home is sitting in silence. If the cast of Gogglebox were watching this show, it would be one of the quietest episodes of Gogglebox ever. No one knows what to say or do.

‘Rosie, say something,’ David prompts.

I look over at Mike who has his hand raised over his mouth. He looks shocked, he’s cringing, but I can also see something hidden deep in his eyes that makes me think he knows this is TV gold, and he’s just leaving things to see how they play out. So I do the only thing I can think of doing…

‘Which dinosaur had 15 horns?’ I ask.

‘The kosmoceratops…’

I tap the button on the player dashboard in front of me.

‘Kosmoceratops, final answer,’ I say blankly.

‘I… erm…’ Mike blusters.

‘Kosmoceratops,’ I say again.

I don’t know if you can use willpower to stop yourself from blushing, but I am trying my hardest not to show how absolutely mortified I am. It’s taking all my strength – and even more not to burst into tears.

‘Kosmoceratops,’ I insist for a third time.

‘Erm… OK…,’ Mike tries to push on. ‘Is that the right answer?’

I have to endure one of those painfully long, uncomfortable pauses they do on quiz shows to build suspense while you wait to see if you’ve got the right answer. Every second is absolute agony as I try to keep a lid on my embarrassment. If this had happened under any other circumstances, I probably would have burst into tears.

The screen flashes up that this is the right answer, as it has done with all the other questions, only this time, as this is the final question, it is accompanied by a rainstorm of gold glitter. As it cascades down over me, Mike hands me a comically large cheque for £50,000.

This feels like one of those nightmares where everything seems fine before events take a horrible turn, like you’re giving your Oscars acceptance speech but then you look down and realise you’ve forgotten to put on your dress. It is somehow one of the best and one of the worst days of my life. I can’t even begin to figure out how I should be feeling right now.

‘Sorry,’ he whispers into my ear, giving my shoulder a squeeze, before turning back to the camera to finish the show for the evening.

As he wishes the audience and the viewers goodbye, instructing them to tune in tomorrow for another live show, I look at my cheque.

Of all the things I expected to happen today, the events of the last few hours were certainly not on that list.

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About the Author

Portia MacIntosh is a bestselling romantic comedy author of 12 novels, including It's Not You, It's Them and The Accidental Honeymoon. Previously a music journalist, Portia writes hilarious stories, drawing on her real life experiences.