It’s customary for a hen to get drunk. It’s expected and anticipated, surely?

Three slurred words into her speech, I started to think this is taking a freefall from fashionably fun to old hat drunkenness!

And it was certainly freefall on the way home! As we were striding back to the tube, it became appparent that the hen was struggling. I leapt into action and managed to prop her up and stay on my heels.

But it only takes a minute. We should all know that from all the Health And Safety leaflets flying around. In fact it was about 30 seconds of standing independently when she fell. Head first.

So my gorgeous dusky pink pashmina – whihc was included to break up the black – swiftly became a blood soaked bandage and my chic as outfit was ensconced in the back seat of an ambulance hurtling towards St Mary’s hospital at Paddington.

At least I can say I was the chicest in A&E that night!