What spa?’ mum asked, busy at the kitchen sink. She said the word spa the same way some people would say, ovarian cyst.‘I didn’t want to be shuffling around in paper knickers all day, Lara. I’ve a million things to do.

My parents bedroom was now draped in damask, air heavy with the scent of incense sticks displayed in ornate stands. On the dressing table, a selection of exotic massage oils and a pamphlet on Tantric Breathing techniques. All this from my mother. A woman who called green tea, ‘hippy juice.

At times like this, I wished I were in an American Soap myself, so I could call the Hilarious Gay Guy who lived next door. He’d come in with Paracetamol and say hilarious things, and the whole thing would be hilarious. But the reality wasn’t funny at all.

I stood, marveling at the daytime TV apparition in front of me, not sure if I could believe my eyes, feeling almost naked without the remote control in my hand.

I was in sex with Marcus!

I searched for something, but I’d forgotten how to shape sounds into language. I was a Stone Age sex-mute, reduced to communicating in grunts and pointed fingers.

The shocking footage of the Arazzi wedding that never was, comes just days after an anonymous blog appeared online, bearing a striking similarity to key events in the life of former model, Lara Taylor.

I pressed Stop on my secret Movie Reunion scene and quickly changed channel to Forthcoming Features, which included dramatic all-over-body toning and finding the love of my life. I was going to be okay. George wasn’t coming, but I was absolutely fine.

I rolled my eyes at her image, grinning back at me from the hair dye box, and consoled myself with the thought that even the Brontë sisters must have got sick of the words Wuthering Heights from time to time. And it’s quite plausible that, undercover of candlelight, Emily sneered at the mere mention of Jane Eyre, and stuck two fingers up in Charlotte’s direction before getting back to her poetry.