Posh West-End nightclub, late on Sunday night after the play-off victory. I'm having a celebratory drink in the corner when this lovely girl comes over and starts to talk.

"Hi, what's your name?", she said in captivating Irish accent.

"Matt", I replied. "Haven't I seen you around...?"

"You may have...", she starts before I excitedly interrupt her.

"I know, I know! You're Andrea Corr!". She blushes as she tucks her arms behind her back and hides her head behind her shoulder (how many 'hers' in one sentence?!).

"Yup".

I take a deep breath.

"I've just returned from Wembley and I thought I'd celebrate here". She opens her mouth, but pauses. A cute smile starts to form.

"Wembley? You don't support Watford, do you??!". Her smile is getting larger.

"I certainly do! Why? You don't as well, do you!?!".

"I do too!", Andrea said whilst clapping her hands like a five year old.

"Oh my God!", I gasp. We both embrace and skip around together with smiles as wide as the Channel Tunnel. "We're going to have a good time aren't we?!?", I wink.

"Absolutely!", she grinned with a cheeky smile.

"Tea?".

"You what?"

"Cup of tea?"

"Oh, flip...it's you. Why did you have come in? I was having a fantastic dream. There was me and Andrea Corr..."

"Yeah, yeah...."