Jemima and Meagan needed no further instructions. They gathered up their things and scurried from the scene of the crime only slowing once they’d reached the tube station.

‘You were literally face down in that woman’s lap!’ Meagan shrieked, hardly able to breathe she was laughing so much.

Jemima collapsed in peals of laughter at the image.

‘I mean I thought you might crash and burn, but not like that!’ Meagan wheezed.

‘What were you thinking, darling? Skateboarding indoors – on tiles?’ Jemima said, battling to stem her laughter.

‘He said it had slow wheels!’ said Simi as the girls dashed into Leicester Square tube station, zigzagging around the weekend tourists congregating in the ticket hall.

Jemima pulled out a handful of tissues and dutifully cleaned the creamy gloop from Simi’s neck.

‘Well, that was a disaster,’ said Simi as she checked behind her ears for any last remaining gelato.

‘And you know why, right?’ said Meagan.

‘Please, don’t mention the skateboarding again!’

‘Because you were pretending to be like him. You’re 35. You don’t skateboard. Don’t pretend you do,’ said Meagan.

‘Then what should I have done?’

Meagan sighed. There was more to this dating game than she’d imagined but she’d never had to deconstruct her technique before. She wasn’t even sure what she did that worked or what the girls did that didn’t. So far they’d had three wipe outs. She’d had the only score – with Gil. Meagan thought back to when she’d approached him. The first thing she recalled was smiling. As a sufferer of resting bitch face, that was compulsory so as not to terrify strangers. She’d been confident but polite, after all she was interrupting his night. He could equally have just won the lottery or lost his job. She remembered touching his arm to get his attention. They always seemed to like that. Their conversation had been brief – an introduction, a compliment and then she’d gone straight to discussing Jemima. She’d spoken about her as though she were highly prized, an exclusive opportunity he’d be a fool to pass up. And most importantly, Meagan had been willing to walk away.

She turned to the others who were staring at her, awaiting the guru’s wisdom.

‘You’re not gonna like it,’ she said.

‘We don’t stand a chance, do we?’ said Simi.

‘Here’s the thing,’ Meagan said. ‘What I did, a hair flick here, a compliment there, it worked because it’s me.’

Simi slumped. ‘So we have to be you to do this?’

‘No. You have to be you,’ Meagan said.

‘Nooooooooooo!’ wailed Simi. ‘That’s what got me into this mess in the first place!’

Jemima gave Simi a consoling pat.

It was tough but that was the truth of it. Meagan shrugged. If Simi played the game using her usual tactics – mutating herself into what she thought they wanted, it would be an even bigger shit-show than earlier. They had to be authentic and transparent, get themselves out of the way so the guy could see through them to who they were being hooked up with.