A number of those present recognized the name of the new player who had recently been taken on by the England Rugby squad, although previously unknown.
Steve lowered his arms and grasped the lectern on both sides. He looked out expectantly. The audience saw a beefy and rugged young man, who although taller than he had been as Stephen, gave a principal impression of being broad. His neck seemed as wide as his square face, which was similar in some respects to that of Stephen, but now with black hair, cropped very close and noticeably receding in a widow's peak.
His features were craggy but fine, with high cheekbones and a cleft in his chin. His dark blue eyes had the same intelligence as Stephen's but total self confidence. His black eyebrows were clearly and finely drawn, fading away to the side of the face, their fineness emphasized by the obvious white scar showing up against his finely tanned skin running across the middle of the right eyebrow up to his forehead. His nose had been broken at sometime, which gave him a distinguished and raffish air.
He had no spectacles.
His shoulders were powerfully built and his whole stance was that of a rugby player, ready to tackle at any time. However this was set off by the smartness of his clothes. He was wearing a double breasted navy blue blazer above a white shirt, with an England Rugby squad silk tie and cufflinks and a Rolex just visible at his wrists. Beneath his grey flannel trousers, he wore a pair of black polished brogues.
The presenter came forward. “Congratulations on your new life, Steve,” he said, “how are you finding it?”
Steve grinned showing one missing front tooth. “Great Dave” he said.
“Now first of all...”