I am writing this from comfy double bed in Dorset. The marshmallow-like duvet is curled around me and the sheets are soft and clean and smell like washing powder.
It was only when I walked through the door that I realised how much I had needed to come home, even if just for a few days. As soon as I stepped inside I was greeted by the warmth of the aga, a cosy glow, and the arms of my mum and step-dad.
Even if it is just for a few days, it feels good to be back, to the comfort of 'den' as my step-dad calls it. However big and brave we all try to be, and however much I love London, we all need to come back to den sometimes.