We sit talking and I’m unaware of time passing. I hear some noise of movement from upstairs. Ten minutes pass before Alesha comes in. We exchange greetings. How does she do it? In the short space of time she’s taken to ready herself, she looks like she’s walked off a movie set, dressed to perfection and professionally made-up. I’m instantly impressed and simultaneously envious.
I glance down and recollect I came straight from bed to get a drink of water. Only now, I realise I’ve neither washed nor dressed. All I’m wearing is a nightdress and a dressing gown. I must look a mess. I’ve never done this before. Well, maybe my parents or Jenny have seen me at breakfast not properly showered and dressed, but no-one else, not even Michael. Especially not Michael. It occurs to me how mixed-up and
