As you may know, these four great poems of the twentieth century are in part meditations on time. This second of the set is introduced with stories of World War Two, from my family and that of my remarkable old friend, Elisabeth Hudson. These touch on the story of the extraordinary spy, Christine Granville, showcased recently on Twitter. Holding Elisabeth's original copy of East Coker set me thinking of her holding it in 1940, when it was new, and when her brother was due to become a great wartime spy himself. In 1944, Christine saved his life.

One of the great poems of the twentieth century, and one which we might call a kind of Anglo-American epic. Starting with Burnt Norton here, from the copy given to me by my great old friend Elisabeth, bought in 1941, and with her til her death in 2008. The great novelist John Fowles offers a nice way into this poem: 'The word is the most imprecise of signs. Only a science-obsessed age could fail to comprehend that this is its great virtue, not its defect.'

Join me for extremes of terror, wonder and hope. This is a colourful glimpse into the world of The Real Vampires, and my personal journeys: through Europe to Greece in 1988; and on into the world of vampires and poltergeists since 2013. I'll be covering these extensively in a new book, We Need to Talk About Ghosts. The photo shows the author in 1988 in Venice, not long returned from Athens and nearby Greek islands. Little did I know at this time that I had been just 50 miles from Vampire Country.