Kids, if you’re appalled by the idea of your parents’ generation having sex, look away now. I’m about to describe a scene from an acclaimed Australian drama series, Dalliance, about the antics of a group of wrinklies reunited by an unexpected death in their midst.

OK, now the children are all distracted with their TikToks and what have you, I’ll describe the scene: a pair of singles in their sixties are about to have some impromptu rumpy-pumpy in the woman’s camper van after doing a few lines of coke at their mate’s funeral. Man makes awkward pass; woman seems to shy away; man apologises – but all is good: they’re just out of practice at reading the signals. Wait: does he have protection? Yes. Ever optimistic, he does. What, though, about the vexed question of lubricant? The woman finds an old tube in a cupboard. It has been so long it is way past its sell-by date. Ah, but what the hell. Will probably still work, just about.

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I sort of enjoyed this scene and I sort of didn’t. It was well observed and charming and low-key funny, as much of this drama is. But at the same time I felt lightly patronised. I could all too easily imagine the production meeting where the series got........

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