I was pleased to have changed my mind about delaying my return from America, for more than just the reason the hairstylist had afforded me. I was not going to squeeze an extra day and night from the fictitious Mr Yorkshire’s expense account. This time would be at my own expense. I needed no Liam with a persuasive argument, nor was there Bots with his following army. It was my liking of the Waldorf Hotel which decided my thinking and although I was not breaking any rules applied to me, I was pushing my remit a bit.
I wanted the time on my own, away from the distraction of people with their own worries and concerns. I wanted some of the luxuries I missed by being away from home, so I had some more fussing from my attentive hotel hairdresser, who shaved me and cut my fingernails before super
