It was no secret that You-Know-Who was renting a cottage in the Cotswolds during the London leg of her UK stadium tour. You know a couple who moved in those circles and it’s time to cash in a massive favour. You send them a message and do the washing up. A little birdy tells me she’s heading into Chipping Norton for coffee. The café in the new cinema. In between screenings so it’s quiet. You think about the dream you had. The one where you’re a cop in the New York City Police Department. Word gets around that Elvis is in the café across the road. You walk through the open plan office and a colleague shouts Say hi to The King for me. You walk across the street and go in the café and see Elvis sitting at a table at the back. You nod to Elvis and Elvis nods back. Then someone hands you a microphone because when you entered the café, you turned into Barry White. Although you’re Barry White, your own back catalogue remains a mystery to you. But with a microph