The next time I paused I glanced down at my wristwatch and was disconcerted to discover that in the few minutes since I had last looked the watch seemed to have stopped working. Although it has a quartz movement the display on the face is analogue sweep hands. The second hand was stationary. I shook the watch, in the way you are not supposed to shake electronic devices, then realized that of course I was being observed. I put down the watch again. I noticed that some of the people in the front three rows, the ones closest to me, were also looking at their own wristwatches, or in many more cases glancing at their cellphones.

I pressed on. Time was not of the essence. I had minutes to spare. Briefly distracted by the problem with the watch I read my speech more quickly, but soon realized what I was allowing to happen, and refocused. The slideshow was now two images behind the plan, so I swiftly brought that up to speed. In control of my material again I headed with a feeling of confidence towards the conclusion.

The applause at the end seemed genuinely enthusiastic. I smiled at and acknowledged the audience, sorted the pages of my speech into a neat pile, collected my wristwatch, and headed back to the red leather chair. My two introducers were on their feet, and they applauded and congratulated me as I sat down.

Questions and answers followed. A familiar pattern. While the third ‘question’ was drawling along (in reality it was, of course, a long and only half audible statement from someone in the audience, who would doubtless conclude with the polite challenge ‘what do you have to say about that?’), I slipped my wristwatch back on my arm. I had time only to notice that the second hand was moving normally again, but that the time shown was more than two hours later than I thought. Two hours had gone by?

I essayed a brief answer to the statement-cum-question. The young woman sitting beside me called for the next one.

Three more questions followed, or it might have been four or five. My energy was low. It was hours since I had eaten a decent meal. I was having difficulty hearing some of what was being said: there was a local accent, or maybe people were shy of speaking up. My mind was starting to drift. I did not want to seem dismissive or rude. Somebody asked me about crime and religion, someone else asked about my feelings on capital punishment. While this continued several people in the audience left their seats and headed for the exits, their arms full of thick outer wear.