It was the sort of plaintive phone call that makes your heart sink, although perhaps my own fault; after all, I did inadvertently advertise my tech-fixing services in last month’s column (see issue 312, p130). I’ll rename this distraught caller, a good friend from my village, Mary. Her laptop, an aged ThinkPad, was “going very slowly and I can’t get any work done”.
Mary’s employer, a utilities company, had decided that working from home was the best thing to do during The Great Unpleasantness. So Mary had rearranged the lounge in her house to ensure that she had a good table, a view out onto the road, good lighting and a proper chair. After all, she would be sitting there for most of the working day, so there was little…
