Ha! So now maybe sunlight isn't so bad for you, after all. As one who spent her twenties frying on Greek beaches each summer, and her thirties worrying desperately about skin cancer, I think the time has come for a little moderation. Yes, we all agree the days of trying to get nut-brown by mid-July have come to an end: there are simply too many horror stories of malignant moles around for us not to be a little wary. Only an idiot really burns now.
But the idea of hiding behind a sunshade all day, in voluminous white cotton garments, to avoid even a hint of sun on the skin sends me into a tailspin of depression. When the sun comes out, I can no more stay inside, or in the shade, than I can avoid a cold beer at barbecue time. It's said that there's an ailment called seasonal affective disorder - sunlight deprivation, in everyday language. Well, I'm a sucker for that, and so are many others. My doctor told me recently that 50 per cent of her appointments are cancelled during a heatwave - and most of them never rebook. The sun, it seems, cures many ills.
So how do we enjoy the sun without risk? The answer is one word long: dappled.
A hot summer's day needs fluttering leaves overhead, a cool green canopy - and you sit or lie at the edge of it. This way, you get the warmth, a little colour in your skin - and you don't burn. If you are really well placed, you can probably even avoid too much vile-smelling, greasy sun lotion.
There is only one apparent problem: the bobbing shadows make reading almost impossible. But that is also the point. On a hot summer's day, books are strictly for resting across your nose as you lie back and breathe deeply. Newspapers are even better: the financial pages, in particular, make a good sunscreen when it's too warm; they are the perfect aid to the little doze that a hot, hot day is all about.
