We stole into the library at 8 am to hang the fabled paintings, hoping only to bump into a cleaner or two. To my horror, sundry librarians and assistant librarians were everywhere to be seen, strolling up and down the stairs, leering at us. We stuck the frames on the wall and hurried away, the Moomin whispering that I’d not only brought the wrong pictures but that they were all twisted from damp and looked shocking.

Moving on to Tescos, we spent a jolly half hour replenishing the larder while discussing the merits of the ‘basic’ range of foodstuffs. Not the moomin’s favourite place, it seems. Then homeward bound, shattered.