Famous

We've just had a trip to London. What fun! A party for authors!

My wonderful agent had a do on Tuesday evening for her authors and illustrator. Being an author, especially if you're not in London or Oxford, is a lonely business where you crouch over a messy desk in a garret and mutter to yourself. These days we don't use quill pens and mostly the roofs don't leak, but it's still isolated. So we're all very grateful when an agent or publisher lets us all go out to play together. We talked about books, about the fun, exciting places where we lived, and about our families. I was a bit over-awed. There were some seriously good writers in there.

Kaye Umansky was there, the author of, among other things, Pongwiffy. When Lady Sunshine was a little girl she LOVED Pongwiffy, and I told Kaye so. Kaye is a warm, big-hearted, funny lady and a joy to be with. And I met Deborah, who long ago was Deborah Robinson.

When I was a little girl, one of the series I was brought up on was Teddy Robinson, by Joan G Robinson. Teddy belonged to a little girl called Deborah. He had all sorts of adventures and a very good opinion of himself. So there I was, talking to the original Deborah, and am happy to tell you that Teddy Robinson is alive and well and has many young friends. I must read those books again, soon.

We were staying very near to another writer you might have heard of, Charles Dickens. I know, he's been dead a long time, but we were staying near to his house so that counts, yes? The Dickens home in Doughty Street is now a museum, so I put on my bonnet and shawl, made sure I had my housekeeping keys in a little basket at my waist and fluttered down there. The house has been cleverly furnished to look much as it would have been when the Dickens family lived there, but without too much clutter, if you know what I mean. There are some exhibitions, simply and clearly done, and some of Dickens own furniture. Poor old Boz - he was so perceptive in so many ways, but he didn't have a clue about women.

Then a quick meeting with lovely editor Zoe before meeting up with Tony at the British Museum. By this point we were hungry, so we got something for lunch at the cafe and were sitting at a table when Tony said, 'we're in illustrious company. There's Michael Wood.'

Reader, I fainted. No I didn't, but it would have been understandable if I had. Michael Wood first came to notice as an implausibly young, good-looking, and enthusiastic TV history presenter thirty years ago or so. He appeared on the screen with a boyish grin of delight, grabbed you by the hand, and took you for a whizz round the 'Dark Ages'. As Tony and I were into Anglo-Saxon already, we loved it. Since then he's done history and travel programmes on Troy, India, Shakespeare, Alexander the Great, can't remember what else. He's like a small boy dragging you off to see what he's found. He explains lucidly and always with infectious enthusiasm.

He had a film crew with him at the Brit yesterday, so hopefully there will be another Michael Wood programme soon. He has changed very little over the years, and I suspect he keeps his portrait in the attic. About ten years ago he was launching his book and TV series about Shakespeare by doing a lecture tour, and Tony and I went to hear him at York. I queued for a long time to get his book signed, and he apologised for the wait. Michael Wood apologised to me.

Yesterday he never appeared to notice me, but reader, I know he remembered me. He was sitting with his salad and his camera crew thinking - on the next table is the incredibly beautiful, poised and charming women who was last in the queue to get her book signed at York. I hear she's a famous author now, but she won't remember me.

Being over-awed and not wanting to stare, I didn't look at him much. Of course he felt the same about me. :)