Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl. Okay, she wasn't a showgirl, but her name was Lola. She had the kind of smile that makes you weak at the knees, your heart flutter and your knickers a little damp. I was standing in the doorway to the ladies dressing room, my mouth hanging open and my eyes fixed on the mirror in front of me. I wasn't amazed at my own reflection, it was the woman who shared it with me, Lola. She sat i...