But then when she was inside and the front door was closed behind her, the feeling descended upon her again, this sort of gloom, settling like soft, chilly snowflakes in her hair, on her shoulders. She’d always thought of her house as cosy, her little refuge from the rest of the world, but tonight the walls seemed to be closing in. The very air seemed to be smothering her. Knowing it was irrational, knowing that she was overreacting, she found herself walking straight through to the kitchen and out of the back door, where she sank down onto the doorstep, breathing heavily.

Daft woman. What had got into her, carrying on like this? Maybe the lightning had zapped a few of her brain cells when it frazzled her telly. Elbows on knees, she put her head in her hands, waiting for the feeling to pass, listening to the sounds of people having a barbecue in the garden behind hers. She could hear Lois next door laughing with her little daughter, and a couple of kids singing in another garden as they bounced up and down on a trampoline, and even though these were all happy noises of people enjoying themselves, for some reason tonight they just made Alison feel like crying.

It was bewildering, frankly. Discombobulating. She never usually felt this way. She’d always cherished her evenings at home, looking forward all day to that moment when she walked in and closed the door behind her, leaving the rest of the world behind. Telly and a TV dinner – that suited her; you couldn’t beat telly and a TV dinner, she’d always said. Only all of a sudden, it didn’t feel quite so enticing. It didn’t feel enough any more.

It must be hard being on your own sometimes, Alison, Jeanie Mortimer said in her head, with that cloying sympathy, and Alison felt her hackles rise. Because she was fine. She was absolutely fine!

And yet . . . She kept spooling back to the moment her TV screen had blanked, the horror she’d felt at the prospect of an evening without it. You’d think she was some kind of an addict, the way she’d panicked at being cut off from her drug, terrified of having to face her own solitude.