I thought I’d better give the wig and head-dress a final check before I chuck layer them with tissue paper and place them tenderly in my suitcase. You may think this looks more like Fairy Don’t Mess With Me than sweet, kind-hearted Fairy Cobweb, but what I was actually saying was, ‘cut the top off of my head in one more photo and I’ll wither your freakin’ zoom lens.’
So there we were, 10am, me covered in fairy bling, Mr F still in his jimjams and his Grim Reaper hooded bathrobe, and the door bell rang.
I said, ‘You’ll have to answer that.’
‘But who is it?’ he asked.
My children used to believe I had powers of X-ray vision too.
This sequinned gown isn’t my costume, you’ll be interested to know. My costume is already in Venice. No, this is just something I threw on after breakfast.