Foreigner Exchange.

"Are you coming back to live in Australia?" asked my senior line manager, Mary. I admire Mary immensely, she's got a lovely face and soft olive skin and always comes in toting a different handbag, but then it's much easier to look sophisticated when you haven't wrestled single-handedly with a two year-old en route to the office.

"I don't know, we feel a bit fed up right now, I miss the people. Perhaps I'll change my mind when the weather picks up"

"Well we'd love to have you back. I'll offer you a permanent position if you'll come back".

So there it is, on a plate. A nice cushy job at the university complete with a nice office and small caseload, and no taking a turn to go out to Tesco in the driving rain for some milk; Kath the secretary picks it up fresh every morning from a shop just over the harbour bridge.

But then I spoke to Lou on the phone and she wants me home, apparently. And Sarah rang and said she'd posted me some of the new Cadbury's Cookies because "you can have them with your brew" and I can't help thinking how I could never replace people like Lou and Sarah and neither would I want to.

Anyway, the weather is taking a turn for the better and the students are back out picnicking on the university lawn at lunchtime because we don't get that sodden grass you'd have in the middle of the British winter back home. Clive James is one of our former students; I like Clive James a lot and I'd like to think we've sat on the same benches drinking our coffee. You don't get quite the same feeling sitting on the benches of the bowling green at Longshoot Clinic in Wigan, and you certainly don't get the sunshine.

The lady who brews the coffee has become my barometer for the five days ahead and as she's ditched the deer stalker hat, I'm hopeful of more sunshine to follow. Back in the office, Jackie has got engaged to her long-term boyfriend Dixon (yes, I know, it's a surname in my book as well) and they've set a date for next February, which is optimistic because her future mother-in-law has turned into Bridezilla and even I'm starting to get irritated by her, sort of by proxy.

And what with all the stress of it all, poor Jackie is wasting away to nothing and keeps complaining about how loose her trousers are getting, which irritates me further still. The side effect of the weight loss (apart from attracting comments about Posh Spice) is that she's constantly cold and keeps whacking up the heating in the offices down our corridor, which means I have to keep sneaking off to the boiler and whack it right back down again, and so it is that we play this little game of cat and mouse all day long and one of these days she's going to leap off that chair the minute she hears the fan go off and she's going to catch me (literally) red handed scooting back into my office and we'll have to have a discussion about it.

"Well, we've made a decision" she said to me at lunchtime today. "We're heading your way. We've thought about it and we think we'd better do it before we have children so we're coming to the UK next March for eight months or so. I need a map, I need some advice, we need to get planning".

"Eight months from March you say? Anyone would think you're scared of our winter. Oh well, sure, I'll give you any advice I can and while we're on the subject, here's tip number one - don't, whatever you do, call your patients a silly twat. Or if you must do, just don't say it in front of their parents".