I am a natural blonde. No, really. I have proof: It got lighter in the summer and darkened in the winter. By the time I was eight it no longer changed with the seasons, no matter how much lemon juice my Nana squeezed on my head. Maybe that’s why I felt such infinity with fish as a child. My favourite doll was a redheaded kilt-wearing thing of beauty from the ‘International Collection’. I wanted her hair. When…
