Gradually, gradually, I am shedding Tempest paraphernalia.

I returned the red with golden studs handbag to Mary last week.

Hilary stole off with her script and beautiful portrait photo early early on Sunday morning before I'd even properly woken up. I expect to see it framed over her fireplace shortly.

And I briefly crossed paths with the elusive and stylish red-lipsticked and about to set off to London to make sushi Ms Chilver last night to return her yellow DMs.

I now just need to offload the jumbled nest of what passes in our world for ticket stubs and the now empty cashbox to somebody willing and we're done.

Phsew. (Again.)