We all have truths that we would rather not share, dark secrets that distort our sleep: we might lose our friends, become social lepers; people might concoct any excuse to avoid visiting our home; we might become the butt of snide remarks and malicious gossip.

I am proud of my wife, Annie. She faced up to these risks with her usual resolution when she whispered to a friend, 'We have mice.'

The response was extraordinary. Her friend hugged her and said, 'So do we.' Three magic words. Emboldened, Annie has told many more with the same result; the truth is that South Edinburgh is infested with field mice and no one wanted to admit it. The wee blighters like old houses with central heating and the crumbs of nice food that get dropped by wandering grandchildren. They're smart, too; everyone has set traps baited with the finest temptations yet not one mouse has been caught. If they have a sense of humour they must find us very funny. But at least we're now being honest about them.