I am used to seeing young women on hen nights (them, not me) tottering down the pavement with pink bunny ears on (them, not me). It’s the done thing, these days, apparently. You weren’t anyone in 2006 if you didn’t totter down pavements with bunny ears on and then dance round your handbag in a nightclub.

I was slightly surprised, though, to see, having changed from the Victoria to the Northern Line, two young Essex girls on my tube train sporting huge rabbit ears – at midday. Isn’t that starting a bit early?

Then I realised it made perfect sense. I was at Warren Street.