The conference launch event was a Victorian-Edwardian music hall concert in the style of BBC’s Good old days show. I thought this a bit OTT for a librarians’ conference, but this was the US, and it did make a change from the usual first night drinks reception. Afterwards I attempted to mingle with my colleagues, but something wasn’t quite right. Every conversation I started was cut dead. Even full-on flirting with male delegates (completely out of character for me) failed to garner any response (although I almost won over the very tall man leaning against the wall). I had clearly upset the entire conference community, but I had no idea how or why.

The Manor reunion was different. Here everyone was keen to catch up on one another’s news, including ours. The moment TPR chose our seats at an empty table a dozen others raced over to claim places next to us. My highlight of the evening was the discovery that my school friend JB and her husband were at the dinner. As an Oxford graduate JB had no entitlement to attend an event for the alumni of the University of Birmingham. However, because she had already missed our school reunion in November and was really keen to catch up with me, she and her husband had taken the decision to come over from California and gate-crash the Manor House event.

I really enjoyed the conversation with JB. I explained how TPR had spent a lot of time in Mountain View in the 1990s and that I’d investigated doing my PhD at Stanford or Berkeley. She was just about to tell me how she’d ended up in San Francisco when we heard the wail of sirens. A fleet of fire engines raced into the dining room to deal the F1 car in the corner that had suddenly burst into flames.