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About Florence

Me? I’d be raging – “What’s this rubbish?!” – seeing some poor lass shivering, fake lashes falling off. Makes me wanna cook her a proper meal, not this street crap. But then – surprise! – some of ‘em are sharp as knives. One told me she’s got a degree, anthropology or some bollocks. Blew my mind! “You’re a copy of something else!” I’d yell, quoting the flick, cos she’s playing a role, innit?

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Finally, we get back to the school. I’m exhausted. I need that cornetto NOW. But wait, there’s more! Next up is Sofia. Sweet girl, but she’s got the attention span of a goldfish. We’re driving down Via Mazzini, and she’s just staring at the buildings. “Sofia, focus!” I shout. She jumps, nearly swerves into a lamppost. “Sorry, I just love the architecture!”

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