It's a quiet day at the library. The excitement is centred around the computers, where Age UK's 10 o'clock session for silver surfers is in full flow. I hide in a corner and prepare my Witney Gazette.
A man about 50 with special needs and a big bundle of legal letters and forms comes in, receiving help from a volunteer legal helper. They're both very sweet and I'm willing one of them to open the paper. But no – they move it around and test their biros on it, but then leave after 20 minutes intense discussion.
Three 60ish ladies sit down for the 11 o'clock silver surfers' session. Eventually one pulls the newspaper over. 'It's a bit wet'. She pushes it away again, then decides it's dry enough to open. Then 'Ooh ...' Look, it's my lucky day. I wonder who's left that.' They look at me – I pretend to be interested rather than guilty. 'Damn, I almost opened that paper ... erm ... but it was wet,' I say, deflecting suspicion brilliantly. The lady is delighted. 'I'll have to get something from Marks and Spencers. Or maybe I should buy a lottery ticket.' The rest of the group arrive and I have to move tables. The whole group is a-buzz with the find. One person is greedily looking through the paper again in case there's another fiver. It is the third most exciting thing that has happened in Witney, after the barbecue blaze and Neil Lyon's eighteen dolly-strikes.
The downside is moving tables. I'd deliberately sat with my back to the window where no one can go behind me, because I'm working on a children's magazine, and there's nothing more disturbing than a 50-year-old man staring intently at a 'colour the dog' activity - I know this from travelling on the Tube while reading the same magazine - even on a really crowded train, it gains you two empty seats on either side.