I read a piece recently by Jenny Lawson - AKA The Bloggess - in which she said that when she was anxious she read more voraciously but that when she was in the midst of deep depression she didn’t read at all. Reading for me, like for Lawson, like for many other people, is an escape and a distraction when most needed.

Over the weekend, walking through Kensington Gardens, I overheard the two elderly ladies behind me having a conversation about what to expect as we come out of lockdown.