And Radford Byrne was certainly worth hanging around for. A policeman brought him out into the reception area where I’d been sitting on a hard chair for hours. I’d almost given up hope of seeing him again but as soon as I set eyes on him, I was very glad I’d waited. His clean shaven jaw line was clouded with an early morning shadow that instantly made me wonder how those bristles would feel working their way up the inside of my thighs. He also did that thing that handsome men do in dinner suits. All the girls know what I mean – the collar open and the bow tie hanging loose. Not forgetting the shirt buttons undone to reveal just enough of a hairy chest to get you really interested. Even if I hadn’t had a taste of the delights under those clothes, I’d be dying of hunger by now. On the advice of Stephen Mercer, Radford and I had played down our relationship in our statements – not that a couple of epic snogs and some very wonderful oral sex could be described as a relationship.
