‘You are my dream boy. Let’s enjoy our youth while we can.’

I looked in his eyes. It was as though we had shown each other a card – our most secret card – and as we did so, simultaneously (3-2-1, go!) we realised it was the same card. Hey presto. And like that, the fear was gone. It was nothing short of (much as I like to avoid the word) … magic.

He went to use the bathroom. I imagined him seeing my things laid out in there and making conclusions. I’d arranged a few things, like a stage set. Left a few labels angled in a certain way. I’m sure he saw through them all, but knowing that was almost as delightful as the possibility of deceiving him.

MY BATHROOM SAID

Bathroom of a woman who is busy but takes care of herself

Bathroom you can have a bath in with her someday maybe

Look at that big shower. You could have sex in that shower

The shower is very clean which also probably means her vulva is clean

Smell her products. You know you want to

STOP SMELLING HER BATHROOM PRODUCTS I’M CALLING THE POLICE

TIPPING POINT

The next time we were in a hotel it was in a spa town where he was shooting bathroom suites. The sex was rough and fast and he was more dominant. I guess he felt as though he had some ground to regain, and that makes me sad, now. (Did he know I’d seen his benzos?)

At the end he pulled out and came on my chest.

I was just about to tell him what to do when he got up and shot around the corner in the direction of the bathroom – I presumed to fetch a towel. Towel scrubs are a real feature of modern hotel-based sexual encounters. We should make more of them. It’s so impossibly romantic, having your abdomen scoured with a hotel towel, don’t you think?

Art returned, towel in hand. I felt like a stain on something. The moment had more than passed. The moment had got on a flight to Rio.

‘Did you come?’ he said, suddenly realising.

‘No, but it’s okay.’

I looked down at my tits, at the spunk sliding down the sides, off my nipples.

‘Did you come?’ I said. Which I thought was pretty fucking hilarious.

Later, we took valiums and lay on the bed watching Stargazing Live.

Modern love.

MY MOTHER SAID

‘A boyfriend? Who on earth has managed to tie you down?’

‘No one. We’re just dating.’