She’s come a long way in 35 years, has Pam Ayres — from a childhood in Stanford in the Vale and working as a secretary in Witney in the 1970s to her present status as ‘housewife superstar’ and poet-at-large for all classes. I last saw her live as a panellist on Just a Minute, she’s had Radio 4 series of her own and is no stranger to the high life on the high seas, entertaining cruise audiences.

But, thank goodness, Pam (pictured with dog Tatty) has retained an unassuming approach to her followers (the Playhouse was packed), is still as homely (in the nicest possible definition of that word) as ever she was and still possessed of that delightfully wonky smile and so-recognisable voice.

And, of course, the roguish sense of humour that has pervaded all her poems since her Opportunity Knocks victory in 1975 (although her talent had already been spotted by Radio Oxford producer Andy Wright). She told us the best piece of advice she was ever given during her meteoric rise: appearing at the Royal Variety Performance in 1977, Tommy Cooper said to her: “If your audience isn’t laughing, get off!” And his coda? “But if your audience is laughing, also get off!”

Last week, Ayres had us all laughing, about teeth, about lipstick, about opinionated husbands, about snoring. Best of all, she did a wonderfully self-deprecating “lament for my lost gorgeousness” born out of seeing Bruce Springsteen on TV and wondering whether he would fancy her. The tale she told of the wanton destruction by her, aged six, of a dolly her older sister had brought back from Weston-super-Mare was expertly timed.

Pam was 27 when she sent off her application form to Opportunity Knocks — describing herself as “a writer and reciter of humorous verse”. Three-and-a-half decades on, she has stuck rigorously to that same path and understands her core audience to a T.