Sticking a Tena Lady under each boob and another on my forehead was the only way I could cope with this week’s heatwave.
I always imagined I’d have the cool composure of Ingrid Bergman’s character in Casablanca if I was ever in searing heat. She stunned in pristine silk while everyone around her sweated bullets and mopped their sodden brows.
While I, with Tena Ladies stuck all over me, looked like an Egyptian mummy brought to life. I closed the blinds and locked the door in case anyone saw me and died of fright.
