Are you a widow who is always ripped off by workmen? Invent a husband!

There have been tough times in my life, especially in recent years, but I honestly never thought that I would reach the point where I would pretend to have a husband.

And yet recently, I had to have a glazier round to repair a broken window. he had a look, then demanded £120 to replace a small pane of glass.

When I raised my eyebrows, he said: ‘Do you want to talk to your husband about the price before I go ahead?’

‘No,’ I responded, thinking quickly. ‘ he’s fighting in Afghanistan at the moment.’

It was a killer move because he instantly dropped his price to £80.

Conveniently, I have a photo on the living room wall of my husband, harry Arnold, in military fatigues when he worked as a war correspondent in the Gulf.

But the truth is that there’s no risk of him coming home and kicking up a fuss at the exorbitant cost of repairs — because harry died of cancer in 2014.

The reason for my pretence is simple: I’m sick of being ripped off because I’m a widow.

harry was a wonderful man and brooked no nonsense from anyone. But since he died, I’ve found myself at the mercy of a string of tradesmen who have ripped me off.

Sometimes I feel like a sad old dog in the forest, just waiting to be set upon by the younger and fitter leaders of the pack. It’s truly ghastly.

I have tried to channel harry’s firm, sensible spirit when dealing with plumbers, glaziers and mechanics, who all treat me like a cashpoint. But I have found, frankly, that it works much better to just pretend he’s still around.

Over the past few years I have shelled out far too much money on poor quality work; even unnecessary or pretend work. The worst offenders, in my bitter experience, are gardeners.

I foolishly told one chap I was going away for a fortnight. When I returned, he claimed he had been round loads and asked for £150, which at £10 an hour meant 15 hours’ work. What he didn’t know was that a friend stayed in the house while I was away and never saw hide nor hair of him. When I questioned his bill over the phone, he came to the house — after dark — and towe r e d and glowered over me in the kitchen (I am 5ft 2in), telling me: ‘ I’m not ’ appy that my inter-gritty is being questioned.’ he left only when I mentioned Trading Standards. It was really very upsetting.

I know it’s sometimes hard to put a definite price on jobs about the house but I’m backed up by loads of research. A recent survey found that plumbers were quoting female customers up to 53 per cent more than men for the same jobs.

A man and a woman each called 90 companies across england. On average the female caller was quoted 16 per cent more than the man. Another study found that one in five women calling out plumbers, builders, electricians or locksmiths was charged more than a man for the same job.

Friends who are widowed, divorced or simply single all tell depressingly similar stories of being stitched up.

At a recent girls’ lunch, my friend eileen said her mother had paid £250 for a cat-flap to be fitted, and our jaws were on the floor — until another friend, Michelle, piped up: ‘er, I paid £300 for mine.’

hundreds of pounds for a simple mechanism which you can buy in B&Q for £20?

A dear friend, emma, has followed my lead and invented an imaginary partner. She even buys men’s shoes and overcoats in charity shops and leaves them in the hall.

She also makes sure she makes a phone call to her ‘boyfriend’ while tradesmen are in the house.

The call goes like this: ‘hello darling. I picked up that fleece you wanted from Superdry — yes, they had an extra-large. T-bone steak and chips for supper tonight. See you later.’

Needless to say, she no longer has any trouble and she’s never overcharged.