So early, she was still in her dressing gown, pottering around the room, with her white hair in a cloud around her head. ‘Amy, dear God,’ she said, as I rattled the handle impatiently, waiting for her to let me in. ‘What on earth are you doing here so early on a Sunday morning?’ ‘I need to speak to you,’ I said. ‘I need advice.’ Cora gave me a sharp look. ‘Is it romantic advice?’ she said. ‘Yes,’ I wailed. ‘Please help me.’ ‘I’m not the romantic type,’ she said. ‘And I’m not dressed.’ ‘I’ll buy you breakfast,’ I said. ‘I’ll go now, and you can get dressed, and when I’m back with the food, we can eat and I’ll talk.’ Cora rolled her eyes. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘But I’m not promising that I’ll be any use.’ Thrilled and relieved in equal measure, I dashed off to the nearby cafe to buy two bacon sandwiches on their amazing freshly baked bread, plus some pastries, and fruit, and everything I could think of that would make a tasty breakfast.
