What was I trying to escape?
Before leaving London for Frome, I panicked. But we left anyway. And then, the plan reversed - we returned to London - and I should have felt relief but the details were full of grit.
When we were leaving east London to move to Frome, a small town in Somerset, I was full of anxiety as I knew that, for various personal reasons, we were moving in the wrong direction.
At first, I’d liked the idea of trying countryside life with our kids - then aged seven, five and two - but as it grew closer, I realised that our desire to escape the city was largely based on the pandemic lockdowns and needing to now exercise our freedom.
The idea of fresher air and a greener landscape appealed too. I had visions of my children running through wild flower meadows rather than getting dirty knees in tarmacked car parks, while we drank pints in plastic cups.
It’s quite easy to persuade oneself that a relocation will solve all of your problems.
I remember, around the time all this was happening, a writer saying that she had considered moving in the hope it would ease her addiction to alcohol but eventually, she realised that alcoholism moves with you. She stayed put, and quit drinking.
When I read her words, I thought: what am I trying to escape, and will I find the answer in Frome?