As you may have gathered, I'm quite a fan of baking. So on Thursday, I spotted a tweet saying
Annie Bell is signing copies of her new
Baking Bible in Selfridges, and I figured if I left work straight away, legged it down Oxford St, I would be able to join the end of the queue, just in time. In my flurry, I made it there, looked around the cookery book section, and thought, 'where is she?'... I asked one of the assistants (who were forbidden from sampling the chocolate fridge cake Annie had brought, how cruel of Selfridges) and, ahem, she was right there behind me. Picking up a book from the pile, I was pounced on by the PR lady, and told that one is already signed, to save time, I expect, so if I would like to have it signed personally, then Annie could do that for me. Ooh yes please... looking around for the massive queue, I was rather surprised to find I was next!
Annie was seated demurely behind a stack of her bibles, and seemed rather taken aback at this flustered, wind-blown, breathless fan, practically jumping up and down in front of her with excitement. Dear me, I thought I was calm, laid back, and rather well-groomed, but no, simply delusional on that front. When asked my name I dithered some more between Ann and Annie, not wanting to sound too crazy by claiming to have the same name as her, but yet I quite like being called Annie, even though my name is Ann. Still more dithering then, as I asked if she would mind having a photo with me. The PR lady offered to take it for me (although I was keen to try out my portrait-photo option) so she did, getting the first one very blurred, and the second with Annie (not me) looking lovely and me (not Annie) looking like I was about to be sectioned.
'Lovely to meet you,' I said, 'You too', she said. Not too sure she meant that, but she was very charming and I do apologize if I alarmed her!
Annie Bell's Baking Bible book review, coming soon. And Himself has my Christmas present inadvertently sorted.