Marry me

I woke up at 6am feeling terrible. Hardly surprising as I was drinking champagne at 2am.

“We won,” I said to Rupert.

“I want to read the French newspapers,” he said.

“I want to marry Jonny Wilkinson,” I replied.

“I do too,” said Rupert.

Never has a hangover been more welcome.

(Read my Sunday Times article about our victory over France.)

Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2007