I was once a Penthouse Pet – and had the time of my life.
At 26 years old, with long, dark, curly hair and shapely legs, I wanted to do something exciting and different. My gorgeous, blond, blue-eyed boyfriend was a croupier at Charlie Chester’s club in Soho. We had just returned from a stint of hard work in Scotland running a hotel, and wanted to do something frivolous.
It was 1971, the – ‘the most febrile and creative time in the entire history of popular music’.
