Meet Dolly. She was found on the floor of a car park on a cold grey morning in February this year. I think she did a teeny tiny wave to get my attention but then stayed very still whilst I picked her out from the gravel and broken glass. The friend who was with me at the time was intrigued to see what had caused me to stop in my tracks and sift through the muck and grime. She guffawed when she saw the grubby figurine in my palm, which was fair enough, but I felt strangely maternal towards Dolly and kept her safely in my pocket.

Dolly lives at my house now and I think she quite likes getting lost. I don’t see her for weeks on end and then she’ll turn up on a window sill, or a book shelf. So I put her in my pocket and then go and lose her all over again.
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