I had not long sat down to a sumptuous meal of sausages with a lyrca clad Sir Chris Hoy, a smouldering Joel Egerton and the much maligned and rather charming Russell Crowe when, during some flirtatious small talk and exquisite gin and tonic the restaurant's fire alarms suddenly went off.
Of course my dinner guests heroically led me to the safety of the nearest exit, where I braved the smoke and bell ringing and suddenly found myself in bed (alone!) with the church bell incessantly calling the Trelawnyd parishioners to worship.
The vicar was late
That's why the Church bell is noisily ringing past 11.20
and I now realise that I have been asleep EXACTLY 2 hours and 25 minutes
I could weep.