Note to curtain-twitchers: if you really want to know what’s going on, knock on the door

What goes on behind closed doors? In Perris, California, the seemingly normal facade of a family home concealed a “horrific” case of alleged abuse. David and Louise Turpin are accused of keeping their 13 children chained to the bed and severely malnourished, an ordeal that only ended when one of the children managed to escape. No government agency ever intervened (despite being registered as a home-school, the Perris house was never inspected) and no neighbour ever came to their rescue, though several have subsequently reported witnessing strange goings-on. So if we really want to know what goes on behind closed doors, why don’t we just knock on the door and ask?

Probably because such “nosy neighbour” behaviour is strongly disapproved of socially, even as, over here, the Government appoints the UK’s very first minister for loneliness. Tracey Crouch MP now has official permission to go door-to-door, checking up on the UK’s nine million lonely people, but the rest of us are still expected to mind our own business.

Keep yourself to yourself and the noise to a minimum and you’re a model citizen; take an interest in the lives of your fellow humans and you’re a curtain-twitching busybody with no life of their own. Meanwhile, even in relaxed social settings, the list of permitted conversation topics is ever-shrinking. You still can’t ask a lady her age or enquire of a gentleman “What do you do?”. Now “How much did that Botox in your forehead set you back?” and “Do your parents pay your rent?” are also off the menu.

Are you genuinely, non-judgmentally interested in how other people resolve the dilemmas of family versus career? Tough. You also can’t ask someone whether they’re single or have children, and only a reckless fool would venture a “when’s it due?” without first seeing a sonogram signed and dated by a licensed doctor. I know, because I’m a nosy parker who’d ask you all these questions and more, if I could get away with it. I find you absolutely fascinating — what’s so outrageously offensive about that?

This kind of curiosity about the way other people live can come off as rude but I prefer to think of it as a natural impulse akin to sex drive or the urge to eat calorific foods in cold weather. And like these other instincts, it also has a clear evolutionary purpose. Presumably early humans were all up in each others’ business, because living in close-knit, knowledge-sharing groups made it easier to fend off attacks from sabre-toothed tigers.

The dangers we face today are different but it still makes sense to put up with some privacy invasions if it means you’ll have support when needed. We all need it eventually. On the flip side, there’s no shame in jostling for a good view when our neighbours get to dishing the dirt. Provided, that is, you’re willing to stick around and help with the clean-up.

Clemmie is the Churchill to behold

Gary Oldman has got rave reviews as Churchill but another performance in Darkest Hour impresses most. The film depicts those early weeks of the Second World War when few considered Churchill equal to the task ahead. He is often waylaid by doubts — both his and that of his parliamentary colleagues — but the presence of Kristin Scott Thomas, pictured, as Clementine Churchill always serves as a subtle reminder of the greatness to come. Any man who could persuade a woman this magnificent to marry him must contain a wealth of hidden virtues.

Oldman, of course, is up for the awards. His role is more bombastic, plus it involves the kind of physical transformation the Academy loves. In contrast, understated brilliance comes as standard with Scott Thomas — maybe she is the more truly Churchillian of the two. Not only does her cross-Channel career embody entente cordiale more elegantly than any Bayeux Tapestry loan but, like Winston, she’s among the few Britons awarded the French Légion d’honneur.

Maybe Trump should read up on Tom Kerridge’s diet tips

Judging by the press coverage, you’d assume Michael Wolff’s Donald Trump exposé is a global bestseller. In fact, while Fire and Fury tops the US book charts, in the UK it’s been outsold by Tom Kerridge’s Lose Weight for Good. Far be it for me to suggest that the presidential library might also be enriched by a copy of Kerridge’s diet manual, though the “girthers” — conspiracy theorists who believe the President is obese, whatever his doctor says — might well do.

I’d only mention that Lose Weight for Good is also available in TV series form, for those who aren’t bigly into reading.

* With the launch of a recording studio in the Soho branch of Nando’s, chicken shops are confirmed cultural hubs. Just as the culturati of 18th-century London gathered at the coffee house to debate philosophy and ferment revolution, the great and good of the modern world are Nando’s Black Card holders flirting up a storm on the YouTube series Chicken Shop Date.

This spicy-wings salon professes to support ethical farming practices and Red Tractor standards.

If Nando’s could go one step further and commit to free-range chicken, no patron of that studio will feel the need to sing the Battery Farm Blues.