I was recently preparing to leave my house with my suitcase. Minutes before my planned time of departure, the postman arrived with a parcel which contained a new nightie that I had ordered a few days before. I had enough time to spare to open the parcel, check that the new article was as ordered, and tnen remove my old nightie from the case and put in the new one.

Why had I gone to the trouble of packing my brand new item of nightwear? It wasn't for my husband. I had read Jimmythejock's Hub 'A Woman's Guide to Understaning Men, so I knew that a nightie would be wasted on him. The truth of the matter was that I was going to spend one night with Wonderful Husband at a Liverpool hotel, and then go to Cheshire to visit an old school friend. I knew that my school friend and I would have a lazy breakfast in her kitchen, and that being female, she would notice what I was wearing.

Little did I think that before 18 hours had passed I would be wearing the new one out on a Liverpool street! My mother's warning about clean underwear and decent nightgowns had finally taken on some meaning.

I met Wonderful Husband as planned. We had a good meal at Simply Heathcote, then walked back to our hotel, admiring a beautiful sunset over the Mersey. He had a business meeting in the morning, so we had a fairly early night.

I was woken from a deep sleep by a flashing light and loud noise: the fire alarm. Neither of us spoke. I was thinking ‘Hotels don't have fire drills in the middle of the night', so I grabbed my handbag and the cashmere shawl that I had left on the chair, shoving my feet into sandals. Wonderful husband donned cardigan and slippers and remembered to take the room key.

As he opened the door I wished that I had remembered to look at that notice explaining the location of the nearest fire escape. As we walked to the stairs other doors opened, and sleepy people looked out to see if anybody was leaving.

There was a steady stream of people as we walked down the stairs. We were on the 3^rd floor (4^th if you count floors American style), and the hotel was originally a warehouse, so that was a lot of stairs.

When we reached the ground floor lobby, a member of staff told us that we could sit down and wait; a few minutes later another staff member said we all had to go outside.

Out on the street the flashing blue lights of ambulance and fire engine illuminated a gathering crowd of people, some dressed in nightwear, others with odd assortments of clothing , and a sprinkling of people simply wrapped in sheets. Parents were carrying small children, but everybody was calm. There was a gaggle of late night revellers in party clothes, who seemed to regard this as a new entertainment.

Thank goodness it was a warm night! There had been a stiff breeze blowing up the river in the afternoon, but it had thankfully dropped.

Firemen were walking briskly into the hotel. The word passed through the crowd that it was probably a false alarm, and we collectively relaxed. I rummaged in my handbag and found a hairbrush. My husband watched as I tidied my hair and adjusted my shawl, and then he asked, ‘Is that a new nightie?'

I always take fire alarms seriously. I once witnessed a hotel fire as I was driving to work. From a distance I saw smoke and wondered who would be having a bonfire at 7.30 in the morning. As I crawled along in the rush hour traffic and scanned the horizon (while keeping an eye on other cars) I saw tongues of flame suddenly leap through the roof of a hotel!

Nobody died in that fire - in fact there were only minor injuries. The fire had started in the kitchen when breakfast was being cooked, and only 25 minutes elapsed before it had spread up through the centre of the building, and then the roof.

In my opinion, the amazingly low casualty numbers were due to the almost immediate response of the fire brigade.

Some guests had refused to leave when the alarm was sounded, and the fire brigade had to rescue some people from windows. This not only increased the risk to the hotel guests, but also the firefighters.

One of the guests was slow leaving the hotel because she took time to apply her make-up!

I know this detail because I was working in Social Services at the time, and my colleagues established a 'comfort centre' for people evacuated from the hotel.

During my years of employment I attended courses on fire safety, run by the fire brigade. The recurring theme was always the need for quick but calm evacuation.

Sadly, because of the number of drills and false alarms, people do not take fire bells seriously!

I may have felt a touch self-consious when I was outside the hotel in my nightie, but I will try to leave just as quickly the next time I hear a fire alarm sounding.