My neighbour rings the doorbell shortly after 8.00pm. Aaagagh. What to do? I make a snap decision: I know it’s not mature or becoming behaviour but it seems to me that there is only one thing for it ...I hide. I sit in the courtyard garden reading Elizabeth Gilbert ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ and ignore the tapping on the sitting room window and the doorbell ringing intermittently.
The problem with this self-imposed siege is that at some point I will have to venture outside to take Biff for his evening walk and close the shutters.
Two years ago I hung up my high heels, put the Prada handbags into storage and left behind my fashionable West London life to renovate an old village house in rural France. Et voila. This blog is about what happened next....