‘So many videos! What a collection you have,’ I comment, pointing at the pile, as Dorothy potters in the kitchen, clanking mugs together.

‘Oh you know! Doris Day! Betty Grable! Gene Kelly! The classics!’ she says enthusiastically. ‘My favourites. My generation!’

‘I’ll have to watch some of these old films one day,’ I say.

‘I watch them on repeat,’ Dorothy shouts from the kitchen.

She wanders back in, her hands shaking again, nearly spilling tea everywhere. I jump up. ‘Sorry, Dorothy! I should have helped you,’ I say, taking the cup and saucer and placing it slowly onto her glass coffee table.

‘So, what’s your favourite thing about these old films?’

‘Well, I suppose they remind me of being young! The stars in them were young when I was young. Very good looking too. I love the clothes – oh, the wardrobes were magnificent.’

‘And these framed paintings on the wall. They’re beautiful,’ I say, looking up at a row of painted ladies in different-coloured dresses, all wearing cloche hats. Funny to think I might be rewatching old episodes of Girls or Sex and the City when I’m older. I think those will be the shows that will remind me of being young. My version of Doris Day.

‘Thank you, I love dresses,’ she says. ‘Even this one I’m wearing today holds so many memories.’ She looks down at the floral buttoned-up dress she’s wearing. It’s faded, but beautiful.

‘Did you used to collect them? Dresses?’

‘I used to make them, dear – for the stars. In Hollywood.’ Her eyes light up as she speaks.

‘Wow … really?’

‘Yes … I travelled the world, dressmaking – it was the dream job. And my lovely husband was so understanding. I was the breadwinner, which in those days seemed very odd to our friends and family.’

As Dorothy goes into the kitchen to get a slice of lemon drizzle cake (she won’t take no for an answer), I Google her quickly. Because I am nosy. Her Wikipedia page instantly comes up.

‘Dorothy Katherine Gray was known for her stylish and iconic garments, including the famous strapless diamond leotard worn by Betty Grable in the 1946 film Diamonds. She designed a selection of couture gowns and coats for many of Marilyn Monroe’s film premieres, which are currently immortalized in a photo gallery in the Palm Springs museum.’

I’m slightly blindsided. I feel a twinge of guilt. I’d somehow put Dorothy into a small box of tradition and convention. It’s just what I’d associate with her generation. Her little life across the road. But I suppose it goes to show, people can surprise you all the time. There doesn’t have to be one given path for anyone.

We finish our tea and cake and I gather my bag to go. I’m meeting Isla and I don’t want to be late, but I’m realizing that I could stay all day listening to Dorothy’s stories. I want to know more about her life.

I say goodbye and thank her for the tea – she definitely put too many sugars in it and, with the cake too, I am on a slightly buzzy high.