"I mean," she said. "Don't take a shower so late in the night."
But something good came out of it. Whilst she attempted to fall back asleep, she read the newspaper and came across an ad:
Wella is looking for hair models for a colouring course on 17/11.
If you want to get your hair coloured by professional hairdressers for free, come to our modelling auditions on Wednesday 16/11 at 18.30. If you are selected you will receive hair products worth 300 kronor. We are looking for both girls and boys. You must be at least sixteen years of age to enter.
She tore it from the newspaper and took it to me in bed, and today I went for the audition. I sat in the lobby reading about Anatoly Kashpirovsky and his likeness to Rasputin, before I moved into another room with the mass of hopefuls. I stood in the back, facing the door, when one of the main hairdressers stepped out, explained the preliminaries of the audition, and started his turn about the room to find girls with "faces suitable for updos." I had no greater expectations of the outcome (I would go to the library to comfort my crushed soul, if all else failed), but then I see the man striding across the room towards me--he was suddenly beside me, asking me to take down my bun to see my hair. I was the first one of the girls out the door. I've been put through my first audition--quite painless really--and tomorrow I go to the studio.
(And yes, I did go to the library and I borrowed Nicholas Nickleby and the Prisoner of Azkaban.)