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But more significantly for us, this is the week when authors and school librarians converged on Bruton (which is somewhere past Shepton Mallet, vaguely in the direction of Yeovil – I’m still not entirely sure where) for a networking event, organised by the fabulous Julie Hoskins, librarian at Bruton School for Girls. For some of us, converging was less easy than for others. A group from one school were swallowed up by the Glastonbury traffic and never made it at all.

And then there was me. According to Google maps, I only live 47 minutes away from Bruton. I spent six years in a job which entailed driving all over Somerset. How hard could it be to find the place? Well, very hard, actually. I think it’s something to do with the ley lines. Launch yourself onto the leafy lanes of Somerset, and you have no idea where you’ll end up. I had maps, I had directions, but none of this helped. WHY have I never got round to buying a satnav…?

So I drove round in a succession of circles.(Oh, here’s Wells again. Lovely!) Eventually, just as panic was beginning to flutter its tiny wings, I found myself on a lane which was getting steadily narrower, but which ancient signposts assured me was heading for Bruton. The car and I breathed in: we made it! Unfortunately, we hadn’t arrived by any of the routes described in the directions. Never mind, I thought, it’s only a small place.

A small place which is heaving with schools. I spotted a likely looking cluster of buildings, screeched to a halt and hailed a passing pupil. Oh no, he said, this is Kings School. He drew me a map. I can only think he was trying to sabotage all efforts to reach the girls’ school, because he sent me in completely the wrong direction. More circles. Eventually I sussed his cunning plan and decided the only thing to do was to find a main route into Bruton and start