I did a reading at The British School of Brussels this morning. I am all finished and waiting for my cab, the sound of hockey sticks clack in the background. I get to eurostar, buy another ticket to get home to London – cause the ticket I had was returning at five oclock and I'm not waiting round for five hours.   I bring The Journalist some Belgian chocolates and I'm back here in London.  I keep the bags packed, check email, without being able to reply. I've got a serious backlog of work and I'm worried.