Wandered in euphoric oblivion through London under imminent danger, despite the terrorist threat level being on the highest level of Critical, thinking only that this glorious day had at long last arrived when I could deliver the MS on the day of the deadline.
Took the tube to Ealing Broadway, the end of the Central Line and probably beyond the end of the civilised world, judging from the soporific state of the pubs.
I insisted on getting a signed receipt for the MS (I’m now the proud owner of Sophie Holmes’ signature at Transworld).
Needless to say the rest of the day was a let-down and I had an increasing feeling of emptiness, somewhat akin to grief. Even standing in the sunshine outside the Crown in Soho watching the women go by gave only temporary respite. Spent a few minutes checking out the pictures in the National Gallery (part of my research for volume 2) but I found them disappointing. They appear to have only one original Hans Holbein the Younger which is a scandal considering how much work he did here. I saw more useful material (from my point of view) at Upton House on Sunday. Can’t reveal too much, and anyway these early ideas for how the plot will develop often come to nothing, but I’ve left Catriona in a pickle at the end of volume 1 so I need to work out how she survives.
So even before submitting the MS I was already starting to plot the second volume. No time for grief or self-indulgence. On with the show!
