âYou couldnât have been. You werenât on the priority list.â
âPriority list?â the old dear laughs. âSometimes, I wonder are you one of us at all, dorling!â
Sorchaâs phone suddenly rings then and she ends up answering it.
Iâm there, âAnyway, Iâm not being rude, but Iâm just going to pull these curtains closed. The boys are watching Ireland v Wales and itâs coming up to the famous bit where the camera picks me out of the crowd with a pint in each hand and my top off.â
âI canât go back to that hotel!â the old dear goes, with a wobble in her voice. âIt has two stors, Ross. And Iâm not talking about Michelin ones.â