We’re plum in the middle of a British summer heatwave – that blissful time when my overseas friends briefly stop complaining about the cold and recline, lizard-like, in contentment.
As a redhead, this is not my time to shine. I should really be hiding in a cave for the duration. Yet while I’m prepared for the sheer stickiness of it all, and the temperatures, I’d forgotten the deathly combination of late-night sleeplessness and heat-induced shopping delirium.
