Just when I thought that the Sun would never appear, she did last night in Hampshire. She appeared on Sunday night, and I was cross with Her. I felt like saying, “Where, on earth, have you been?” Like a girlfriend, who is flakey. Nevertheless, I sat under Her radiance, thankful for some warmth. I sat outside, reading a book, until it was almost dark. Until the Sun set. It was time to go inside. She, the Sun, is so fickle!

It was towards the end of my thirties, the summer of 2001, that I was tired of sitting on British beaches, cold. Of course, from time to time, as a family, we made the big trek home to Australia. It was always wonderful to be there, but it felt like the back of beyond. It was my precious ‘beyond’, but it was so flipping far away. It was, of course, always worth it when we arrived. It is unsurpassable in my affections. I am an Aussie Sheila, through and through. A diehard.

But, as much as I loved Britain, I needed to warm up. I loved the big vistas, the brooding skies, the big landscapes. Constable and Turner landscapes. I was just too chilly in summer. When I was just about to turn 40, Niki, the beautiful mother at nursery school that graciously took Anna home when she asked herself for tea, asked us to Bermuda for the summer holidays. Her mother, Audrey, lived there, with her husband, Jay, the Mayor of Bermuda.

We, of course, prevaricated. I felt disloyal to my Aussie roots. But, in the end, the lure of pink sand, aquamarine water, a reef that is just off the beach (not like the Great Barrier Reef – a couple of hours a boat ride away) and non-stop sunshine, was too much of a temptation. We said a categorical, “Yes.” I could cope the rest of the year in less than warm climes, but not in the summer.

Bermuda was all that I had dreamt of, like the perfect destination in the best movie. We arrived after not too long on the plane, and in the Arrivals Hall, there was an actual band playing ‘Tropical Tunes’ of ‘Welcome’. It was a dream come true. It was paradise.

When we came home, we had our last holiday in Norfolk, with John and Nicky Barber and all our children.

It was sad. I had a sensation that it was the last time that we would be there, altogether, for…ever. In the summertime. Could cope at other times, but not in summer.

The children did what they always did, pottered around in freezing foreshores, in luke-warm air temperatures. Nevertheless, I loved it deep in my heart, in a heartbreaking sort of way. Like an attractive young woman, she couldn’t compete with the outright beauty of hot climes. She was a lovely girl, beside a supermodel. I was off to find sun for summer holidays from then on. I blame my Aussie heritage. I just wanted some heat!!! But I do know that the British coast is very special, just a tad too cold.

The next year we didn’t go back to Norfolk. We abandoned her, and we went back to Bermuda. Flakey!

Today, I am going to celebrate the end of my job. Hopefully, the weather will get better now – just when London is winding down and schools are breaking up.