"Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do sweetie," he says conspiratorially before turning his bright blue eyes on me. "She doesn’t want me to tell you that if you go up to her room here, it looks like you’re her wallpaper. I don’t think there’s an inch of space that doesn’t have your face or erm- well your muscles!" He slaps his legs, bending over he’s cackling so hard.