The famous Movie Hero fetches me for dinner. He brings an enormous fir tree covered with artificial silver and imitation pearls. Unfortunately, he resembles my first love and when anyone does that, red warning lights switch on inside me. It is very difficult in America when those lights start blinking—because American men say “I love you” as part of the conversation.

And when the man is one of the Famous you cannot laugh it off; because they have such sensitive egos, and think they never give better performances than when they half-close their velvet eyes over a glass of wine and whisper lines from the films in which they have acted.

The next day all the papers proclaim that the famous Movie Hero and I are lovers.