All of a sudden, my life changed from an uneventful but pleasant existence into absolute mayhem. At first, I hoped it would stop. I wanted to scream that I had my rights too and prayed Derek would soon get fed up with this new and particularly odd craving.

In the beginning, I turned up the radio to drown out the noise. Then as the days dragged by and there seemed to be no sign of him tiring, my misery escalated into panic attacks and raging migraine.

Whenever I remonstrated with Derek, he'd pat my throbbing head saying, 'Cheer up, old girl. Better this than going down the pub and getting legless.'

But a few weeks later, during a lull, I managed to hear the door bell chime and went to answer it. On the doorstep, I met the cool gaze of a R.S.P.C.A. Inspector who, in solemn tones,informed me that he'd received a number of complaints regarding horrific sounds of cruelty being carried out on a defenceless animal.

I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. I wanted to hug the handsome man in his smart uniform. Instead I took him down to our garden shed where we found my swollen cheeked husband blowing up, with all his might, his recently acquired bagpipes.