There he is, tall, tanned, Italian, sophisticated. So what do you do?" I said, "Er, leap on him and snog him within an inch of his life? Taking care not to strangle myself on his false beard, or disturb his banana.

Who wouldn't want to see some owl eggs?" I said, "Come on then, they are down here." He said, "Tallulah, the answer to who wouldn't want to see some owl eggs is... me!!!!

Non...I am DANCING IN MY NUDDY-PANTS!!!' And we both laughed like loons on loon tablets. I danced for ages round the house in my nuddy-pants. Also, I did this brilliant thing-I danced in the front window just for a second whilst Mr. Across the Road was drawing his curtains. He will never be sure if he saw a mirage or not. That is the kind of person I am. Not really the kind of person who goes and raises elks in Whakatane.

I‘ve said it once and I will say it again, why can‘t everyone just speak English? The Americans give it a bit of a go — why can‘t other nations?

I gave my artistic laugh and also threw in some quirky language for good measure. "Lawks-a-mercy, no! I'm going to have a long bath and..." I looked shyly down. Which is pretty impressive to have done artistic laugh, quirky language and shyness all in the space of ten seconds.

I am looking at you and you are looking at me. This is very good. I am looking and I am liking. You are looking and you are thinking, 'I hope she doesn't hit me with her crop.' But that is because I am me and you are you.

I couldn't believe it. It was unbelievable, that's why. My face was like a frozen fish finger. All rigid and pale. (But obviously not with breadcrumbs on it.)