The air was frigid in our bedroom early this morning. We notice the change of the seasons more markedly from the bottom storey of our house because we do not have central heating on that level, and we don’t put on heaters until it gets colder still.

Returning from the bathroom, I jumped back into bed and cocooned myself in the cuddly winter duvet. After a while I looked over at Chris’s side of the bed and saw that he had only about two inches of the king-sized duvet to spare, and his right foot was poking out.

“Are you sure you have enough cover?” I asked, pushing the duvet towards him.

“I say,” Chris began in what I thought was a rather aloof English tone, “do you think bed is the right place to try and sell me insurance?”