Dreamt that my older sister and I were browsing in some very expensive London antique shop. I expressed casual interest in a fine 17th century chess set. I was immediately allowed to fondle some of the chessmen, flattish pieces made of laminated ivory and ebony and beautifully painted.

Next thing I knew the salesman, who seemed to dimly know me, had made up a nicely bound personalised brochure, which addressed me by name and detailed everything about the set including the price of each piece etc.

I was embarrassed and thought, “Surely he realises I couldn’t possibly afford to buy it”, but then thought he might have assumed I’d come into an inheritance or somesuch. Anyway I pretended to be deeply considering the brochure while my sister led me to a painting she was seriously thinking of buying, a horrible thing – not in her taste at all – badly depicting two TV celebrities I’d never heard of, camping it up in fluffy white 18th century costume. She thought it was fab and I had to tell her I couldn’t imagine her wasting money on such tripe – “You can barely make out what it’s supposed to be, it just looks like dirty cotton wool.”