Chantelle Lane wasn't a stressed-out person. The only time she really raised her voice was in nightclubs, to point out attractive men to her group of equally-smiley friends. Chantelle Lane was everybody's friend and a firm believer in the saying 'you're never fully dressed without a smile'. So the evening she arrived home with a frown was very strange indeed.

Luckily - or unluckily, depending on quite how miserable she felt, her flatmate Lleucu was working the night shift at the hospital and had already left by the time Chantelle returned home. I was right, wasn't I? She asked herself over and over as she untied her hair and stripped off her uniform. I was right. I don't deserve those words. I'm not a moron. The shower, hot and soothing though it was, provided little comfort against Jeremy Hamilton's words. I'm not a moron.

Chantelle redressed in her favourite pyjamas: pink, with tiny white rabbits hopping merrily, haphazardly, across both halves of the outfit. She stepped into matching fluffy bunny slippers and padded into the kitchen to prepare her favourite comfort food: chicken nuggets and smiley face potatoes. A healthier meal would have been more nutritious, but after a day like that, Chantelle needed some processed potato smiles. She settled in front of the television to catch up on the week's Hollyoaks with her meal. Willoughby sat on the arm of the sofa. Chantelle picked him up and squeezed him tight.

That's better.