I honestly thought I was immune to internet scammers intent on stealing my money. I’d set up face and voice ID for my bank and had learned from the bitter experience of others that I must never click on a link in any unsolicited email or text.

Several hundred pounds have been lost by friends who’d fallen for the most common scam of all – emails claiming to be from a son or daughter stuck somewhere abroad with no money and no means of getting any.

So I knew well enough to ignore those, as well as the emails from Nigeria asking for my bank account details into which they would send the thousands I had won in a lottery.

Nevertheless, I still managed to slip up last week.

The text claimed to be from O2, my telephone provider. There was a phone number claiming to identify the origin of the text. I called it. It went directly to an answerphone message: ‘This is the O2 messaging service. The person you are calling is unable to take your call. Please leave your message after the tone.’ It sounded genuine to me.

The text said there was a problem with my billing and I should click on the website address provided and sort out the problem. I clicked. I was asked for my debit card details. I entered.

I was most anxious to inform the officers that the plant was perfectly legal. I had a prescription and a card to show them I was prescribed medical cannabis to help ease the pain in my back

No sooner had I done so than I realised I had made a heart-stopping mistake. I had given my card details to a scammer, becoming one of the 20 per cent of Brits who’ve fallen victim to a finance scam.

I immediately called the genuine O2 number. They had identified no problem with my billing. I called the bank. The fraud department took my mistake in its stride. Mine was not an unfamiliar story. They assured me there was no evidence of any fraud on my bank account, agreed to cancel the debit card and send me a new one. What a relief.

My son, Ed, who came for the weekend, was not as calm about it all as I was. I was ticked off loudly for failing to obey all his instructions about keeping myself safe online and he assured me this would not be the end of it. I would likely be bombarded with calls, texts and emails because word would have got out to other scammers that I was a soft touch.

Ed left around lunchtime on Sunday and not long after my phone rang. The No Caller ID should have been a clue that something wasn’t right, but I found myself listening to a young man who told me he was calling from my bank.

His name was Dan. He had a perfect English accent and very good manners. He said he had to check I was the right person to talk to and told me my full name, my address, my date of birth and the four numbers at the end of my credit card.

He asked me if I recognised two transactions. I said no. He then informed me someone had been trying to take £12,000 from my credit card, which was why he was calling. Did I know my customer number, he asked.

Back to normal for brave Davina

Davina McCall at the Brit Awards on March 1

Well done Davina McCall, who earlier this week summoned up the courage to appear on live television for the first time since her terrifying surgery to remove a benign brain tumour.

 I know what she meant when she said she’d recovered in her bedroom, which felt like a safe space. I felt much the same after my mastectomy, lacking the confidence to get back to live broadcasting. 

But it was wonderful to be back with friends, colleagues and the demands of the studio. Back to normal is best when you’ve wondered if you’d ever see normal again.

Oh, oh! It was another scam. He was after access to my online banking. I politely said I’d be calling the real bank and ‘Goodbye’. The bank assured me my accounts had come to no harm and comforted me by saying I’d done the right thing in giving him no information and calling the fraud department straightaway.

They then advised me to report it to the police – after all the scammer knew where I lived. So, for the first time in my life, I dialled 999.

A charming young woman took down the details of the call and said she would send two officers to check I was safe.

Barely two minutes had passed before two delightful young constables arrived. They sat on my sofa, making a big fuss of my dogs, Minnie and Maggie. They complimented me on how fast I’d reported my experiences, warned me about clicking on unfamiliar links and assured me I need not worry that the caller had known my address: these criminals tended to work only online, they never went to a victim’s home.

It was then I realised they were gazing intently at something on the coffee table that suggested a different kind of criminal activity had been taking place. ‘Oh, yes,’ I said, ‘that is cannabis in front of you.’

I indicated towards a tightly closed black pot which contained the cannabis flowers, a tool with which they could be ground down and a vape.

They looked somewhat surprised at the idea of a 74-year-old woman being a dope fiend.

I was most anxious to inform them that the cannabis was perfectly legal. I had a prescription and a card to show them I was prescribed medical cannabis by a private doctor to help ease the pain in my back. I’ve been using it for a couple of months. A friend with arthritis had recommended it.

I hadn’t wanted to take the usual strong codeine painkillers the doctor had given me after I broke my vertebra 18 months ago for fear of addiction. And the cannabis is proving a great help – far better than paracetamol.

I was quick to tell the police that I only consume it at home in the evening, never driving a car under the influence. It contains 7 per cent THC, the psychoactive chemical that makes you high, but so far it hasn’t made me giddy or hungry – it just relaxes me and helps me sleep.

I don’t smoke it, which is apparently illegal even with the medical variety, I have the special vape which heats up the weed without burning it.

They were fascinated. They asked to look at the container provided and were impressed that it was so tightly capped they couldn’t smell it. One of them asked if he could take off the top and look inside. I agreed and the pungent smell of the drug was released.

He had a good look at the weed, had a big sniff and pronounced, ‘Wow! This is good stuff.’ I managed to resist asking him how he knew.

They were so sweet and reassuring about my fear of the scammer coming to my home. They said I needn’t worry about anything, but if I was ever concerned, I should call the police, and they would come at once. They said goodbye to me and the dogs, and I sat back in my comfy chair, fired up the vape and relaxed. After all that drama, I needed it!

Life online is terrifying for boys

I watched all the episodes of the crime drama Adolescence on the day it was released and felt so relieved my sons had never faced the horrors of the online ‘manosphere’

I watched all the episodes of the new must-see TV crime drama, Adolescence, on the day it was released and felt so relieved my sons had never faced the horrors of the online ‘manosphere’. 

It’s not only the lack of internet that helped them to grow into the fine adults they’ve become. At an all-boys school with supportive, but demanding male teachers as role models, they were free to learn what masculinity was all about. 

It seems the school boys of today are often denied those good examples. Only a third of secondary school staff are male. Men need to teach or our boys will truly be lost.

I have no objection to the plan for GPs to check their patients’ weight every year. They’ve been warned to be careful not to offend those sensitive about their size. 

I would have been quite happy to step on the scales and have my waist measured as a reminder to watch what I ate. Unfortunately, my old GP struggled with her weight as much as I did. We were far too sympathetic to each other.

Hands off my comfort crumpet! 

What’s all this nonsense about crumpets (or pikelets as we call them in Yorkshire) being served in Michelin-starred restaurants, topped with oxtail, broccoli leaves and green sauce or tandoori crab. 

A pikelet needs nothing but a good toaster and lashings of the very best butter. It’s a simple comfort food, not a high-end mess.