‘If you’re a miserable cow, then they’ll think that’s what’s in store for them when they meet us,’ Meagan said nodding Jemima’s way.

‘And if you’re desperate, guess what?’ she said, giving Simi a kind smile.

Simi nodded, mulling over Meagan’s words. Even Jemima appeared to be taking it all in rather than coming up with some snarky comment.

‘Right then,’ Jemima puffed, ‘we need more coaching. And if we’re really doing this, we have to talk about the type of guy we’d like to meet – or not meet.’

Jemima was clearly still smarting from her brief encounter with the copywriting lumberjack, Gil, thought Meagan. It was fair enough. She’d spent the best part of a week batting away his request for a proper date. As commuters swirled around them, Meagan linked arms with Simi and Jemima.

‘Okay, but let’s get out of here,’ she said and they headed towards the escalators.

‘You start, Meag. What do you want?’ Simi asked as they descended to the platforms.

Without thinking, Meagan replied, ‘He’s gotta be fit, live north of the river and own a decent car.’

If she was going to spend two, possibly three hours in someone’s company, plush leather interiors were non-negotiable. Jemima and Simi followed her in silence as they moved through the crowd to some empty seats. They obviously hadn’t considered this at all.

‘Come on, Simster, what are you looking for?’

Simi thought for a second then rummaged in her bag to retrieve a thick, blue notebook stuffed with magazine cuttings and Post-it Notes. Meagan stared down at it. She was wrong. Simi had given this way too much thought.

‘What. Is. That?’ said Jemima planting herself on the other side of Simi to get a better look at the Keanu Reeves collage on the front cover.

‘My cosmic ordering book,’ said Simi as though it were obvious. ‘I’ve had it for years. It’s like the Argos catalogue but it comes from the Universe instead of the stock room at the back.’

She leafed through the pages until she reached the section on partners which was three times denser than the others and brimming with photos.

‘You want the Universe to deliver you Keanu Reeves?’ Jemima asked.

‘What if you’re out when he arrives?’ said Meagan.

‘I guess they’ll leave a card,’ said Jemima, ‘“Sorry, we tried to deliver The One but you were out. We left him with a neighbour.”’

Simi snapped her book shut.

‘You asked us a question but my answer’s not that simple.’

‘Sorry, Sim. Go on,’ Meagan said as though coaxing a hissy cat from under a sofa.

Simi cautiously reopened her book on the relationship section. The pages were thick with notes, lists and collages. It looked more like Simi was on the cusp of discovering time travel than dreaming up her best life.

‘First and foremost,’ Simi began, spreading the pages open, ‘he needs to appreciate the arts, you know, visit galleries, go to the theatre – but not musicals. I’m done with that. It’s a red flag. Oh and he has to love music but his music collection can’t have more than five Best of albums. Maybe he could even be in a band. It’d be great if he worked in the entertainment industry too and was successful, you know, broken the US market – and was famous…’