FOR some strange reason. I don’t mind giving talks in public. That’s probably because it’s the only time anyone ever listens to what I’m saying.

So I generally say yes to public speaking engagements and don’t expend too many nerves beforehand.

I accept I’m a bit dull, and that if there was an England XI for being boring, I’d probably make the team. But audiences, from WIs to schools to business leaders in Bucks, are generally polite and ask loads of questions so I tend to get away with it.

However, I didn’t bargain last Friday for coming down with a dodgy throat shortly before I was due to give a ‘masterclass’, at Wycombe Business Expo, on how firms can get their stories into the paper.

The lurgy had been there and thereabouts for about a week, but hadn’t caused me many problems until it suddenly took grip on Thursday night.

By the time I had come into work on Friday, I was on the verge of losing my voice.

But I didn’t let it worry me, and drank loads of tea before I sauntered off to Cressex Community School for the 3pm session.

I thought I was feeling a bit better, but as I stood outside preparing to give my well-advertised talk, I realised I’d turned into Rod Stewart during his Maggie May period.

Admittedly, some people find husky voices sexy, but mine was also on the cusp of breaking every few seconds.

And this is where years of watching Blue Peter as a child, and going to cub scouts, came in handy. I was, for once, well prepared because a) I had made up some interactive tasks for the audience and b) I had brought along, Liz, the work experience reporter.

So when the so-called ‘masterclass’ began, I immediately gave the small but lively audience a handout I had prepared earlier asking them to write about themselves. They were tasked with writing the most interesting fact about themselves in the space of 30 words.

Then, when they had finished, I asked Liz to read out all the answers. And boy, were they entertaining. Most of the participants told how they had either taken up a bizarre hobby, or had come into contact with a world famous celebrity.

I had also cunningly ingratiated myself with everyone by getting Liz to bring along a large bar of chocolate to hand out to the person with the best answer.

So that took about 15 minutes of the half hour session with me saying relatively little. This allowed my vocal cords to recover in time for a lengthy blitz at the end when I read out a pre-prepared list of tips for firms who want to get a story into the local press.

And even though my voice threatened to break several times, I kept going and somehow got away with it again.

Moral of the story? When giving talks and presentations, get the audience to do all the work for you.

Give them tasks, quizzes, games… anything to keep them occupied.

It entertains them, stops them nodding off and generally ends up with them better informed than if you’d talked at them for the whole time.

Genius? Perhaps I should give up my day job after all.

l By the way, I haven’t forgotten about the High Wycombe bus lane. I will sort out a submission in the next few weeks to give to the county council, on behalf of all the readers who complained about the A40 monstrosity.