As energy prices rise, I realise that a second jumper is no match for double glazing

It adds a certain piquancy to the energy price cap rise that it should coincide with a sudden cold snap. Any hopes that the government might have had about avoiding the public’s wrath in a burst of spring warmth have been well and truly dashed. Ministers will say it’s a perfect storm – but they aren’t going to bear the brunt of it.

On Thursday evening, like the rest of the country, I popped out to read my electricity and gas meters, only to open the box and remember that we have a smart meter anyway. I promptly went back inside, turned on the energy usage monitor and gulped as I saw how much it had cost to cook the kids’ tea.

I am, I must acknowledge, in a very fortunate position of knowing that I will be able to afford the rising prices. I will have to take a bit more care with other things I’d like to buy, but I’m not going to suffer the hardship that millions of other people will, which is a sobering thought.

It is also true to say that when it comes to energy use, I have always been careful, almost to the point of paranoia. In recent years, I’ve told my children that we all need to do our bit to save the planet; but it’s also because I don’t like to spend money unnecessarily. The fenland heritage is strong in me.

If the kids complain that they’re cold, my immediate reaction is to tell them to put a jumper on; and then a second jumper. Meanwhile, I’ll be wandering around the house, turning off lights or appliances that aren’t in use, like a mini-Bill Pertwee from Dad’s Army. Yes, that occasionally results in someone falling down the stairs in the dark, but it’s a smaller price to pay than my energy bill.

My fixation with lights also has an aesthetic element. A blazing ceiling light is frankly offensive in any room except a kitchen. Much better to stick on a lamp, which will throw interesting shadows and diminish the obviousness of my wrinkles. Even better, light a couple of candles – admittedly not ideal for reading but fine when you’re watching telly (dad’s energy angst permitting).

However, there is an elephant in the room – well, most of the rooms anyway – and that is the absence of double-glazing. Our house was built in the 1920s and, in estate agent speak, “benefits from many original features”, one of which is the delightful yet poorly insulated timber windows. They look charming, but they admit cold air by virtue of being single-glazed and having ill-fitting stays and fasteners. The draught in our home is so effective that on the rare occasions we have the fire lit, you can hear the breeze whistling under the sitting-room door.

Every other house in our row has uPVC windows, which are ugly but warm. And while I might be saving the odd penny by suggesting to my son that he could prefer his bread untoasted, I know that the best way to cut my heating bill would be to replace all the windows. But since I can’t face plastic frames, the cost of the job would be astronomical. We’d be better off leaving the oven on with the door open during those chilly winter months.

I know I should get over myself. Instead, I spend five minutes closing all the curtains as soon as it begins to get dark, to create an extra layer of insulation. However, it turns out that fabric isn’t as effective as a second pane of glass – and to be fair to the children, I probably sound unreasonable when I suggest they pop on a hat.

This is the rub though: when push really comes to shove, I know I can afford to turn the thermostat up. There are goodness knows how many people in the UK for whom that isn’t the case. And as for how the government is going to end the cost of living crisis, I suspect we are all in the dark.