What’s for breakfast? I try not to eat until lunchtime, because I’m so greedy and I get fat so easily. What then? We often have the family over. I might roast a spatchcock chicken with a bit of curry paste. Or lunch might be something I’ve hauled out of the freezer, like a chilli con carne or fish pie. When I’m feeling a bit unhappy, cooking is such a soothing, happy-making thing for me, so there’s usually stuff in the freezer. After lunch? My husband, John, is tremendously good with the grandchildren. We have Segways, scooters and swings and, for the grownups, a boules court. Sundays growing up?​ I had a childhood of privilege. We had a big house in Johannesburg with a pool and tennis court. There was a hammock underneath the pergola. I used to lie in it and eat chocolates and read books. My father loved mowing the lawn; the sound of him going backwards and forwards making that clackety-clack noise, and the smell of the cut grass, is such a happy memory for me. Once the guests leave? I’m quite partial to a siesta. More food later? Scrambled eggs and bacon on toast. We have a cosy Sunday evening together with the fire on, so I don’t get the Sunday blues. My husband watches Bake Off, but I don’t, because I’m thinking, ‘Why did the cameraman go around the back – that’s my worst side!’ Before bed? I put out my clothes for the next day. Usually I’m catching the train at God knows what early hour, so this way I can get up and out in 20 minutes. And just before lights out? A cup of tea. And then we both read before we go to sleep.