No women worries with this wonderful wine

A train stands in the old village station. Good.

I have purchased my ticket and the briefcase is held securely, there’s plenty of time.

I walk down the platform to a near-empty carriage and try to open the door. It will not budge. I walk to the next carriage. Again the door refuses to open. I have an important meeting this morning. Perspiration begins to trickle down my forehead.

I run to the next carriage. Again the door remains closed. Inside the train, a few pale haggard faces look out, mostly in sympathy. But one elegant woman sipping champagne looks me and cruelly smirks. As I sprint to the final carriage the train takes off and I shake the briefcase in anger. Whereupon I wake up.

Oh, we've all had such dreams. Sadly, when these things happen it's usually much too early to settle one's nerves with a stiff drink. No, we'll have to wait till evening for that.

In reality, we do actually catch the train. And we do make it to work. And by the end of an awful day, we start to wish that we had actually missed the train.

But who was that mysterious woman? And why was she laughing at me?

So I make my way back to my lovely home, Rose Cottage and kiss my beloved wife, the enigmatic Madame G., who is preparing her takeaway style Chinese chicken supper which I match with a glass of today's Wine of the Week, the versatile 2021 Stellenrust Chenin Blanc (currently reduced to £7.50 from £9, Sainsbury's). This fresh, zesty South African white is full of bright citrus and tropical fruit flavours on a palate alongside notes of herbs and grassy aromatics before a lingering, acidic finish. One to enjoy with spiced Mediterranean or Asian cuisine.

Viennese witchdoctor, Sigmund Freud, would probably have told you that the cruel woman on the train was your mother and that you were deeply in love with her which she found ridiculous and that's why she was speeding away and laughing. And he might be right but it's a depressing and weird. Better to think of her as the personification of your aspirations for something better in life which you're scared you might miss out on. Life's opportunities passing you by. Helpless, you stand on a railway platform. Bereft. Actually, that's not much better, is it?

Lovers of red, fear not, your train has arrived and its doors are open. Today's second recommendation is the big, bold and fruity 2020 Barossa Ink Shiraz (£10, Tesco). A smooth, juicy palate with notes of plum and black cherry leads to a lengthy finish with strands of vanilla and just a hint of dark chocolate. One for roast lamb or beef.

My dream dictionary tells me that missing a train could represent an inability to control one's life. And my instincts tell me that the woman on the train is an amalgam of all the women I perhaps wronged in my reckless youth before I settled down with the right one. I was an awful Casanova back then.

Sleepwalking through life and love. But I'm awake now. And I'm taking back control.

Well, we can drink to that. Now, where's that briefcase? Till next week, tipplers, sante!