Joss Stick: Joss Stone

JOSS STONE is smoking a fag. Crouched on the pavement outside the BBC's Maida Vale studio, a grey cardigan pulled around her, a skinny roll-up between her fingers, the soul sensation who's spent much of the last year dodging tabloid accusations of erratic behaviour and diva-like tantrums looks more frozen smoker than prima donna. When a builder from across the road approaches with a pen and paper she smiles, chats cheerily and signs her autograph between shivers.