Agaggh! Walking Biff this morning, I notice that the local Intermarché is closed, as is everything else for miles around, it being un jour férié (public holiday.) Not great news when the only thing in your fridge is a limp lettuce and a handful of wrinkled carrots. Fortunately, the local bookshop is open so it's back to the black coffee and chocolate diet as I plough on with my book edits. There is, I've discovered, only one thing worse than a wet bank holiday weekend and that's a bank holiday weekend facing a Christmas pudding for lunch.