I blame Lily. Or more precisely my selflessness at donating my hot water bottle to her yesterday after hers had sprung a leak. (I know, whatever next? Hot water bottles in boarding school!) My feet are like blocks of ice. So much for my beauty sleep.
I am about to go on holiday to France with Lily and an unsuitable suitor but I can't find her passport and now she's spinning round like a dervish, and now she's fallen over and, oh God! Her arm looks like a cheese twist.
'Is it broken, darling?' I ask.
'Yes,' she whimpers. She looks deathly pale.
'Is there a medic around?' I shout to the crowd that has formed.
'Yes!' cries a young man, rushing to our aid. He takes hold of Lily's twisted arm and Chinese-burns it back in line.
Aagh! And, indeed, Ow!
I awake with a jolt. Oh God, it's the Big Day.
Now. What to wear?