The Scots have a wonderful word: ‘Dreich’.  It refers to the weather and means, dull, cold, damp and gloomy.  There is usually the sort of drizzle in which the rain seems to swirl and drift downwards only on average.  Yet it still manages to get you very wet.

The weather around us has been distinctly dreich over the holiday period, more so even than an average English (or Scottish) winter.  The cats have been refusing to go out.  We’ve not taken all our usual evening walks and even inside the house it’s been clammy and humid.  Which is ironic really, because the part of ‘Sofie’ I’ve been writing takes place in a blisteringly hot summer where the heat is oppressive.  Of course summer heat waves here tend to produce thunder storms and I’ve just finished a passage where 19 year old Sofie and her life-long friend Andrew are caught out by one while out on a country walk.  Sofie has just been dumped by her girlfriend so wasn’t in the best of moods to start with.

It’s strange writing about broiling heat while wearing a dressing gown over your clothes because it’s cold even with the central heating on full.  When you finally get to read the book though, you’ll see the section I mean.