Still grey but I determined to go out. I walked down the town and went to the library. I adore going to the library. I ordered two books: The Luminous Life of Lily Nelly Aphrodite by Beatrice Colin and a book by Irene Nemirovsky. I paid my 80p for each reservation and couldn't bring myself to pass by all the lovely books on display even though I have several books on the go already. In France I have 65 boxes of books in storage and I miss them so. My dad has only got a few books here in the house; most are Reader's Digests compilations so I resort to them when I am desperate. One of his fiction works, which I have just finished, is The Sea Wolf by american writer Jack London. It was written in 1909 and is a peculiar mix of adventure, savagery and delicate love on the high seas. I am also reading an Iris Murdock.

When I left the library I waited at the bus station of catch the local service home. I forgot that the Saturday timetable is reduced and I stood there for a long time. Three of us got on the bus and settled in when the driver took the wrong lane. Were we being kidnapped? Did the driver know something we didn't? We all looked at each other wondering whether to mention that we were going the wrong way. Nobody said a word until the driver shouted out, at the top of his voice, "I forgot where I was going". Everyone breathed a sigh of relief but instead of carrying on he turned back and went round the one way system again to collect anyone waiting. This little incident united us and we all exchanged smiles, raised eyebrows and friendly nods. Travelling by bus is a community affair in Lewes whereas in Brighton you don't make eye contact with anyone.