‘Are you luring me into your fancy new bower, with these jewels?’ he said. I sat back. ‘Oh, you have a mean face when you turn your smile off! For a pretty girl. Are you going to look at me like that for much longer? Wow. I feel like taking a picture so you can see for yourself!’

‘I’m not trying to lure you anywhere,’ I said, insulted. ‘You can do what you like. I have no desire to mate or marry. I am a busy woman with plans. It is not in my nature to surrender.’

(Baby me, oh baby me. I want to fly back in time and tell you you’re wrong and hug you and tell you everything’s not going to be okay.)

When I went to the loo he emailed me:

What if I adore you?

I sat on the loo and typed back:

What, then?

What if I do, though?

Well, this IS a conundrum …

Someone knocked. I hitched up my pants.

‘Are we … categorised, then?’ Art said, when I was back at the table.

‘Is this’, I said, ‘a hoary little question about exclusivity?’

He laughed at that. He told me I could call the shots. Ha! I laughed, then. I was a 28-year-old woman. I was taking the shot-calling for granted. I looked at him in a way that told him so. I revealed … an amused scowl.

‘What are you going to do about them, then?’

‘Who?’

‘The other three? Your three amigos. The curly-haired one in particular needs to go.’

Ah, so he’d looked and found them. He had made deductions. Course he had.

‘Is this an ultimatum? I don’t respond well to ultimatums, I should warn you.’

‘I wouldn’t dare.’

‘I am completely honest with all of you. I have everything I need. If you want to come along for the ride, be my guest, but I’m driving.’

‘And what about the teatimes?’

‘What about the teatimes?’

‘Are they not lonely? The endings of the days? Do you not long for that nightly family feeling? Decompressing at the dining table.’

I couldn’t answer for a long time. He’d hit a nerve all right. He was wily, this one.

‘There are other ways of getting that.’

‘You might not need the other ways forever.’

You know what it is? The light does it. Every time. You’ll buy anything – a house, a situation, a feeling – if the light is right. That night, the light was right.

‘Just know I’ll do everything in my own time.’

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Of course. But – in the interests of transparency …’

‘In the interests of transparency, I suggest you take off your shirt and your trousers.’

Ha! What a sailor. I was epic. Randy Crawford’s ‘Almaz’ comes to mind. It’s strange how a lot of people hear that as a tragic song.

KELLY HAD SAID

You’re like a deranged Victorian