Plus, racked with guilt over a worm-ridden kitten, processing our Prince Andrew trauma, and clearing a laundry pile-up

Today I took my two new kittens to the vet for their immunisations and because at four o’clock this morning one of them threw up a pool of writhing worms. “They should have been wormed every two weeks,” says the vet sternly. “What?” I say, stricken. “I thought it was every month?” “Every fortnight,” he says, even more sternly. “Until they are three months old.”