I'm fully aware this is a catch phrase for a certain TV series, but it has a new resonance in our house. I've just been told that I need to get my chimney rebuilt before winter sets in or it make come down into the living room to join me for Christmas.

Of course, my reaction to this, after contacting the appropriate people to make it all better is to hide in fiction. I'm embarking on a serious concentration of writing this month. Not least of which is A Death in the Pavilion, which will be out next year.

But for anyone who needs a Christmas fix of Euphemia there is a short and high spirited story due mid Nov.

So I'm off now to ignore builders and bills and go back to the 1910s. See you there.