Mademoiselle Marple

Closing the curtains against a chill November evening and denying yourself yet more comfort chocolate, you dislodge the cat from the sofa and grab the remote. Zapping through all the regular TV channels and despairing of weekend scheduling – crammed as it is with C list celebrities prancing around in sequined gowns and tone deaf teenagers screeching before an audience overloaded with Sunny D – you scroll down and chance upon Agatha Christie’s finest creation. And if there’s something familiar about the genteel late 50’s village she inhabits, then it’s probably because you live here.

Ok, you need to turn a blind eye to the fact that you’re south of Dover and to the occasional glitzy 4x4 or (more usually) knackered white van which take the place of powder blue Austin A30’s. It’s also unlikely that the local vicar, irascible farmer or scion of the village’s wealthiest family will be bumped off on a weekly basis. And the café serves cold beer and Gitanes as opposed to tea and scones. But everybody knows you, your family, precisely where you live and will happily gossip all day long. Net curtains twitch if a footfall disturbs the quiet evening and homes and cars are often left unlocked. And walking to and from the shops, there’s always time to shake hands with friends and acquaintances (briefly grasping their wrist instead if said hands are carrying shopping) and to practice your gallic shrugs. There’s a fat old Labrador who turns up outside the butchers at the same time each morning to collect a bone, then wanders back home down the middle of the street, deftly weaving his way between bleary eyed children making their way to school. Housewives sweep the pavement in their slippers and dressing gowns, the weekly market offers seasonal produce (currently pumpkins and dodgy looking fungi) and like bobbies of old the Gendarmes still salute - usually just before giving you a ticket for speeding, having a bald tyre or driving a nicer car than theirs'.

In short, it’s a return to a gentler time, but with the added bonus of tap water that’s now drinkable, broadband and a better climate. And should some scoundrel get on the wrong side of the law, DNA profiling – of which Miss M would heartily approve.