I was early in town so I called into Waterstone's to see if I could find my book. I did: it's on the shelves and the title is facing outwards (as opposed to the spine) so that's good but they still have all 5 copies that I took in originally so that wasn't good. I was tempted t move one copy onto the Beach Reading table but there was an assistant tidying shelves just next to me and I'm not good enough an actress to make it look as if it were by accident.
Anyway, I arrived at the studio and a sound engineer let me in and settled me down. He was very reassuring but then disappeared as he had something else to do. Leaving me, in the studio, to pretend to do the traffic report and sing a song ... before noticing the security camera.
Roy (see how I'm on first names terms with nationally-known radio presenters?) (admittedly nationally meaning Wales isn't that famous) was very easy to chat to and I came away thinking it had been a success: at least I'd only lost the thread of my sentence before the end on only one occasion. I put my sunglasses on before leaving the premises in case the paparazzi were outside and I didn't want to be recognised.
Then I had to collect George from the kennels and I made the mistake of listening to the rest of the show on the car radio. They had another author on and she was MUCH better than me. I hated her. She was flirting and giggling girlishly. Then I started remembering what I'd said and realising how much rubbish I'd spoken and all the things I hadn't said - and all the things I shouldn't have said.
I've had to eat chocolate.