PRETTY much wherever I have gone over the last few weeks, I have heard one television programme being discussed above all others.

Even friends and family who actually have lives and watch very little on the box, have gone out of their way to ask if I have been watching Apple Tree Yard.

I had, of course, but held off discussing it here because it obviously would be bad form to give away any plot twists - and because I don’t recall having seen a programme quite so, well, adult, being shown on the BBC for quite some time.

We have grown accustomed to high level, top drawer, entertainment in that 9pm Sunday slot for quite some time now, since the lavish adaptation of War and Peace in fact.

It was followed swiftly by the Night Manager, which was occasionally fairly near the knuckle.

But Apple Tree Yard, which is essentially about a middle-aged woman who has an affair and then consequences there-of, had me wincing in places.

I actually couldn’t believe some of the terminology I was hearing on the BBC at a relatively early hour.

Although, of course it was after the watershed.

I had to turn the television down extra low during the concluding two episodes this week for fear of our daughter accidentally hearing something as she tried to get to sleep.

There’s some stuff I just don’t want to have to be explaining to a ten-year-old.

Even on Channel 5 they apologise after every ad break if they think there might be something vaguely offensive coming up - and this goes on well past 11pm when the watershed is long gone.

But Apple Tree Yard was almost unapologetic in its content and this made it even better viewing.

Aside from its very mature themes - it was one of those dramas which left you discussing it long after the closing credits.

It was ultimately about relationships, risk, responsibility and those what-if moments - but it was definitely cautionary.

What will we watch to get us in the mood for the coming week now?

Well on Sunday we can enjoy the annual BAFTA ceremony for a start.

These days I have barely seen any of the films up for the gongs, due to nights out at the cinema needing babysitting arrangements put in place, but I still enjoy the pomp and ceremony of it all.

My long-suffering husband hates them though and there is no doubt going to be more than a bit of political rhetoric thrown in there this year too.

Think he might have to go into the kitchen and look for a documentary about 17th Century Venetian wall art on BBC4.