Our double-think on immigration needs to be urgently re-examined

TWO THINGS I pleasurably waste a lot of time on are property supplements and travel websites.

Having sat out the entire cycle of boom-and-bust in one modest abode, I perversely have an abiding interest in what is behind other people’s hall door. Nosiness, inadequacy, snobbery — all of the aforementioned and more I am sure, apply to me, and maybe you.

There is vicarious pleasure in looking through the peephole into another’s abode. And there is the fascination with prices. A house down the street is for sale and I am only itching to find out what it will go for. But I won’t have to scratch that itch for long before a good neighbour passes the number along.