I am back from Nigeria, the school Easter holidays have finished and the Cundallhouse is starting to return to what passes for normality. In poor weather, the best visit with the grandchildren was to Wakefield’s Hepworth Gallery. But the exhibit that distracted me most, while trying to keep track of two inquisitive youngsters, was this unique jacket from Rajasthan, found in the Royal Armouries, Leeds. Every gold-coated scale, beautifully etched with the same pattern, comes from, as you might have guessed, pangolins.

You can see how the Rajasthani aristocracy got the idea – if pangolin scales give their natural owners such good protection, then why not use them as armour. Pity the poor lasses (a gender-stereotypical assumption) who had to sew each scale on by hand.

Novel 2 is coming along well. If  it was the item of clothing above, I would have a clear idea of its shape and have sewn a third of the jerkin. It’ll be a while before it starts to acquire the golden bits that will make it really glow – and I won’t be stealing them from someone else. The jacket looks ceremonial to me, not much use in a real battle. I’m glad the fashion never caught on, pangolins are murdered for lots of other daft reasons.

The novelists’ group of Leeds Writers Circle (LWC) have transferred their patronage to Blackwells bookshop opposite Leeds University steps, who have kindly provided us with an excellent space upstairs on Saturdays. We hope the proximity of all those published books will somehow inspire our works-in-progress. Monthly meetings ensure I keep writing, and the discussions always throw up some new insights.

This time, a couple of days later, I have decided that the novel has to have two first-person narrators, not one. So far, my writing colleagues are happy with the voice of Freya, the main protagonist, who is a 56 year-old woman. Critically, six women writers from LWC independently said that her voice was authentic in the most intimate scene so far. As I get to know Freya better, I feel more confident writing her. It should be relatively easy to write as Hereward, a renowned fertility doctor whose tainted past we gradually discover.

Forget the glossy pangolin-scale coat metaphor, that could be the cover of a book. My story will be like living, breathing flesh, won’t it?

My next pangolin will emerge on 15th May, and may well have a Canadian theme.