Janet had flown down from Carlisle and arrived straight from Heathrow. She walked in, saw us, came over and then said “ aaah theres my husband sitting over there with Alan Yentob having dinner....!” With that she turned and left. I was dumbstruck, having never been in a situation like that before. Thank God Magenta was with me. Worse, her husband came over to ask if that was Janet..... “Er, well yes, it did look like her” I spluttered.

Magenta and I found JSP hiding around the corner outside. I was freaked. A day later I got a phone call at home from the Sunday Mirror, Christopher Hitchens, who said “well we know what’s going on and we are going to write it anyway - so what do you say?”.

That was it - I had entered flashbulb world. After all those years sitting on my own in a cafe, dreaming the dream, here I was with a happening group and now a first taste of celebrity world. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it. Everything ramped up another gear once we made that elusive jump from NME to The Sun.

But was it too much too soon? I believe it was. Like it or not Sputnik was a tabloid wet dream waiting to happen.

I eventually became great friends with JSPs now ex-husband, Frank Cvitanovitch (ex ice hockey player and film director) and he became a welcome benefactor offering sage advice. He was a wonderful man and we used to play snooker together every Monday at one stage, but that’s another story. He was to direct the last ever Sputnik video some years in the future.

[Chapter 7...]