I used to be a journalist. I say I used to be, as I am no longer one officially. I was sacked from my job at the Telegraph due to prolonged sickness.

It was over a year and a half ago now, that I sat at home, depressed and lonely, when I glanced up from my chair and noticed my son's collection of 'Harry Potter' books sitting boldly on the shelf. I had nothing else to do, so I read them, without stopping in a week. I didn't tell my children - they would just say I was sad - and I didn't tell my wife, because she thought I was out finding a job. I suppose I was in a way.