A sunny weekend ahead

Finished off Harry Potter (the book, not the wizard - don't blame me!) on Sunday afternoon. What a great ending! J.K.'s so talented at writing extended climaxes (ooer missus), unlike say Patricia Cornwell, whose recent Scarpetta books seem to end pretty abruptly over only two pages. The parents went for a nap and I desperately speedread in their absence in the hope I'd finish it before they resurfaced and distracted me with offers of cups of coffee and lyric-murdering singing, but alas I was too slow. I tried using the universal "talk to the hand" sign to alert them to my disinterest in their witterings, but had to resort to locking myself in my bedroom so I could get teary-eyed and lumpy-throated in peace.

On Monday my stepdad hired a van and we ferried a great big piece of furniture over to his place in Tottenham. A spare tyre in the back of the van tried to break through the thin piece of plyboard protecting the passengers and decapitate myself and my mother, like some death scene in Final Destination. Once at his house we had to get the piece of furniture up the stairs, which involved lots of sweat and swearing, and another near-death experience as I narrowly avoided plummeting down the staircase followed by a huge wardrobe intent on crushing me.

I met my agent V for lunch, who brought along agent G (who looks after foreign rights) and agent S (who sells film and/or television rights). They were all uniformly lovely, and great company. G and I had Bellinis followed by wine, and I ended up a bit squiffy. I'm such a lightweight (despite my recent brave attempts to increase my tolerance levels by drinking massive amounts of champagne). We chatted about our favourite books, and I learnt some good tips on how not to impress an agent - that's the last time I handwrite a novel on Basildon Bond stationery in my own blood, I can tell you.

Back to Cambridge and the lovely boyfriend after that, and then work on Tuesday. I'm employed by one of the University departments, and this is the time of year when all the students have finished and all the faculty are bunking off working from home on important research. It's like a ghost town in here and has been all week. Colleague Tim has become my tax advisor and we work out how much of my new income is going to be taxed. I'm happy paying tax, being a big believer in the welfare state, but the leap from 22 to 40% is a bit of shock, having never earnt in that tax bracket before! There are worse positions to be in though, I'm well aware. Having pushed thoughts of a Cayman Islands account to the back of my mind, I'm now trying to decide which is a more attractive proposition: paying a lump sum off the mortgage or buggering off to the Maldives for the rest of the summer.

At least the sun has finally arrived in East Anglia. I think I'll get the garden furniture out and spend the weekend writing book no.2 in the sunshine. It's a hard life...