I'M ashamed to admit that I don't know my next-door-neighbour's name.

She moved in a couple of months ago and I had a brief chat with her outside once. I forgot her name straight away.

"Call round for a cuppa sometime," I heard myself say, knowing that if she did so I'd probably pretend to be out.

Truth is, I'm not particularly neighbourly. I live in a block of eight flats and barely know any of the residents. It's partly because over recent years I haven't spent much time at home; caring for two sick parents required regular overnight stays, and whenever I came home it was invariably late evening, when my neighbours were behind closed doors. And I leave for work early, before any of them are out.

I was friends with a previous next-door-neighbour, but I sometimes resented the lack of privacy. "I saw your light on so I knew you were in", she'd say, calling round just as I was about to run a bath or indulge in a Corrie omnibus.

My lack of neighbourliness is shameful really. I grew up in a friendly neighbourhood populated by various "aunties and uncles." They weren't actual relatives, but they were good people offering friendship and support. After school I went to Auntie Mary's, we watched General Hospital and she swooned at Adam Chance. A teenage girl three doors down used to babysit on Saturday nights, I was in awe of her Bay City Roller trousers and she taught me to do a backflip. When my brother was hit by a car, it was the kindly old lady next door who gave us sweet tea and a tight hug while he was lifted into an ambulance.

I still remember the names of people on our old street, 40 years ago, yet I don't know any of my current neighbours beyond a casual "Hi" and some awkward smalltalk.

According to new figures from Weber BBQs, less than five per cent of us know our neighbours' names. Yet studies have shown that regular contact with neighbours boosts wellbeing, and there are practical benefits too. Neighbours help protect each other's properties from crime; pushing mail through letterboxes, parking cars in other driveways and closing curtains when houses are unoccupied.

Neighbours can even save your life. St John Ambulance says first aid can dramatically enhance someone's chances of survival in an emergency, and according to Age UK, up to 60per cent of older people rely on neighbours for food shopping.

Occasionally I wonder if I fell down the stairs, how long I'd lay in a crumpled heap before someone came to my aid. Since none of my neighbours have a spare key, they'd have to break down my front door. But since I haven't bothered to remember any of their names, why should they bother?