Elvis! Hey Elvis!” Letitia Wright calls enthusiastically. A waiter walks over. “Elvis is my friend. Elvis, Simon. Simon, Elvis.” Elvis and I introduce ourselves, and he takes my order. Wow, what a coincidence, I say to Wright – a friend of yours working here. How long have you known Elvis? “I just met him today.” She laughs. “I try to connect with people.” Did he recognise you? “No! Elvis doesn’t care who I am. He just cares if I’m a kind person or not.”
We meet at a restaurant in the Shard, London’s famous spike in the sky. Her publicist refers to her as Tish, so I ask Wright if she prefers people to call her Letitia or Tish. Letitia, she says instantly, correcting my pronunciation (it’s Leteesha).
