Well, I’m feeling a whole lot better about things now. Mrs May popped by for a nice cup of tea and some of that Battenberg I put aside for my weepy moments and explained with that coquettishly robotic expression of hers that everything would be all right.

I must say I had been having a bit of a wobble about the near-certainty that my business will close as we encounter some of Mr Hammond’s turbulence on our way towards the sunlit uplands of Brexit and that Pavlina will have to return to her grandparents’ offal farm in Panagyurishte.

But Mrs May said she had just come back from Birmingham where all her friends had held a vote and established quite democratically that everything she said was true! And now that Mr Corbyn is busy healing his followers like Jesus did I don’t suppose he’ll have time to argue. So Mrs May will be right for some time to come.

Which is a relief. I know I’m a silly old worrit, really, but what with Mr Coupe’s masterplan to revive sales by renaming Sainsbury’s cheese Gary and offering free MRSA with its pork not quite working out as well as expected, things were beginning to seem a little bit tricky for us poor shopkeepers. But now it’s official. In March next year we Get Our Country Back and we also get something called Sovereignty, which it turns out is when decisions are made by incompetent British bureaucrats in Dudley instead of incompetent EU bureaucrats in Brussels.

The best part is that now that no one can afford to go abroad any more - well, foreign countries are so over-rated aren’t they? - everyone will have to spend all their money in Britain. So just to celebrate, I’ve put Branston Pickle (£1.49) on special. Beat that, Carrefour!