The streak of bleach in my hair is as obvious as ever. Am I really going out in public like this? I push my hair backward and forward a few times - but I can't hide it. Maybe I could walk along with my hand carelessly positioned at my head, as if I'm thinking hard. I attempt a few casual, pensive poses in the mirror.

"Is your head all right?"

I swivel round in shock to see Nathaniel at the open door, wearing a plaid shirt and jeans.

"Er...fine," I say, my hand still glued to my head. "I was just..."

Oh, there's no point. I bring my hand down from my hair and Nathaniel regards the streak for a moment.

"It looks nice," he says. "Like a badger."

"A badger?" I say, affronted. "I don't look like a badger."

"Badgers are beautiful creatures," says Nathaniel with a shrug. "I'd rather look like a badger than a stoat.

Author: Sophie Kinsella