Me Life Story by Scarlett Moffatt (best classic books of all time txt) 📗

he was in fact royalty and was related to William the Conqueror and Edward III, I wanted to know more about how it had changed things around his house.

‘So, have things changed now you’re royalty?’ I asked him.

‘No, and the Queen still hasn’t welcomed me into the Windsor fold. Give me a bell, babes.’

I didn’t even know what to reply so I just said, ‘You are the most Cockniest person I have ever met.’

I soon eased into the interviewing after being able to chat to Ant and Dec, the lovely Holly Willoughby and Phillip Schofield (who by the way are literally the nicest people in showbusiness). Before I knew it, the night had nearly ended, so I slipped on my tiger slippers and was about to head out when I heard, ‘Mary Berry is coming backstage, Bake Off has just won!’ ‘Ahhh, shit, it’s so dark back here, I don’t know where my shoes are.’ I couldn’t find them in time to chat to Mary Berry and have a photo with her, so I now have a framed picture in my living room of me and the person everyone wants to adopt as their gran, Mary Berry, with huge lovely tiger slippers on my feet.

The day after the NTAs I was on a high, I had so many amazing tweets and Instagram posts about my presenting job, I felt like a professional. That was until I read the papers. Now in some articles I was in the ‘hot’ section with what I was wearing but in one particular newspaper I was in the ‘not’ section. Why, I thought, I liked my outfit, did they think it was too pink, did it clash with my orange tan? No, apparently ‘I didn’t show my figure off and it wasn’t a gown.’ I mean the person who wrote the article was clearly an Einstein for pointing out the obvious that I wasn’t wearing a dress. Also I had short shorts on, my legs were out, but did they have to be? Erm, no! I could have worn a turtleneck jumpsuit if I’d wanted to. It’s so sexist how I was told I basically wasn’t revealing enough. Come on, guys, it’s 2017! Women can wear what the hell we want and we don’t need some journalist to tell us if we are hot or not!

Next came the BAFTAs, which I was super shocked at being asked to present an award at (as in all honesty I wasn’t even expecting an invite to attend in the audience). I know how much of a prestigious event it is and I was completely honoured. Not many people get invited and the people who do are absolute stars. I always love watching the BAFTAs and seeing all the amazing frocks but being there in person was breathtaking.

I took my mam along as my date and when we arrived we were escorted to a lift, a lift that David Haye was casually standing in. I clenched my mam’s hand and whispered, ‘O. M. G. It’s David Haye, Mam, look.’

‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘I can see, it’s only a little lift, he might hear us.’

We giggled and went to our seats. We then spent the next half an hour before the show being fan girls and admiring the room.

‘Joanna Lumley is five rows in front of us, Mam.’

‘Sweetie darling.’

‘Look to your left, Benedict Cumberbatch is there. Look to your right, there’s Jennifer Saunders. And look down there, it’s Dame Joan Collins.’

‘Now seriously, Scarlett, how does she look that good? She looks younger than us.’

The awards ceremony began and me and my mam were just in awe. Halfway through I was taken backstage with Aisling Bea who I was presenting the ‘Reality & Constructed Factual’ award with. I bumped into Charlie Brooker, Charlotte Riley and was sat next to none other than Chuck Bass (Ed Westwick) from Gossip Girl. Louis Theroux was backstage too and we ended up having a conversation about feminism (one to tick off my bucket list). Me and Aisling had created an Anchorman-style sketch to present the award where we would read out full stops, pauses and mistakes on the autocue. Luckily people laughed and I could now relax.

Me and my mam were so hungry after the show. Obviously we didn’t dare eat anything before the BAFTAs as I only have to look at a chip and I bloat to the point where people mistake me for being ‘with child’. The food was divine and my mam told me to ‘stop being a tit’ because everything that came out I would say, ‘Oh so for the main we are having BAFTA glazed carrots, with BAFTA mash, with BAFTA beef with beautiful BAFTA gravy lavished all over it for a bit of BAFTA moistness.’

‘Right, stop saying BAFTA or I will be BAFTAing out of the door, into the BAFTA taxi, all the way to your BAFTA house, got it?’

It is a night me and my mam will both remember forever and I wish I could do it all a-BAFTA-gain.

I have also got to take part in absolute nineties nostalgia by bringing back the cult classic Streetmate (which I will chat loads about in the next chapter) and of course by participating in The Crystal Maze. All I need now is to have Jet from Gladiators’ legs wrapped round me, a cameo on Absolutely Fabulous and to present the weather on Big Breakfast, and my childhood is officially complete.

The set for The Crystal Maze was massive compared to what I thought it was going to be, like I was actually out of breath when I made my way from the futuristic zone to the medieval zone. I felt like I was actually travelling back through time. I knew I would be the first and only person to get locked in on one of the challenges because my mam had already predicted it. I was put on a team with Steve Jones, David Coulthard, Jodie Kidd and