Have you ever been the President’s guest? Or do you know someone who has? I do. A Peirene author. Friedrich Christian Delius, author of Peirene No 3, Portrait of the Mother as a Young Woman, was the President’s guest. Only yesterday. And Jamie, the translator, and I sat right next to him. What? You didn’t see us on the news? Well, pity because it was a spectacle definitely worth watching.

It all happened in Reading last night. Although Portrait of the Mother is not out until September, the President and the honoured members of the Assembly could no longer wait. They invited the author personally to present that stunning 120-page-long-single-sentence-that-reads-like-a-page-turning thriller. And they were truly stunned. So stunned that I sold – yes sold, not handed out as a freebie – 15 preview copies of the book. The President bought one too.

No, the President was not Barak Obama. But Frank Finlay. FF. Remember those initials, you will be tested on them in history lessons to come. The Assembly, however, was indeed a national one. Nothing less than the annual conference of the Association of German Studies in the UK and Ireland. Pretty impressive, hey?! In plain English: Peirene Title No 3 is now known through-out all the universities in this country. And if Lit Professors think Portrait is a remarkable novella  so should all of us I guess. Sorry to not be more humble about it. It’s just impossible.

So, how could it have all gone wrong? Well, the phone rang. Mine. The President’s guest was reading, the honoured assembly sat as quiet as a single mouse, and a phone started to ring in that beautiful old-style ringing tone. Instead of pretending it wasn’t mine, I frantically rummaged around in my handbag for everyone to see illuminated by the spot-light on the podium.  The ringing  eventually stopped of its own accord leaving me with the burning desire for a hole to open up in the floor.

No hole opened up. President and President’s guest were thrilled with he show. And so it was only after I woke up this morning that I had time to reflect upon the event. My daughter was the one who had rung. She was wondering where I had left the money for the piano teacher – the money which I had forgotten to take out of my purse that was lying in my bag right next to the mobile phone. And if there is one thing I have learned from managing Peirene it is that daughters show no respect for distinguished presidents and honoured guests. The piano teacher still needs to get paid. And the phone is there to ring the mother if she forgets to leave the money.