‘For now, but who knows where that could lead.’

‘Bethnal Green Bus Garage by the sounds of it,’ quipped Meagan. ‘But you know what, he’s a nice, solid guy and a great way to kick off your new boundary-based love life.’

Simi liked the sound of that. She wasn’t concerned with his career aspirations. She just wanted different so she could finally learn, grow and change!

‘Right then, Simi,’ said Meagan mounting her trusty steed, ‘Your turn. Go and nab someone for Mrs Frigidaire.’

Jemima’s smile flickered at the dig.

‘What should I look for?’ asked Simi.

Meagan stroked her chin. ‘Well someone a little bit uptight,’ she said winking at Jemima.

‘Ha, ha,’ Jemima said. ‘Just get someone like me. Someone I’ll get on with.’

‘Oh, no, you don’t get to choose personality,’ Meagan said.

‘Fine. Then get me a George Clooney lookalike.’

‘E.R. George Clooney or Ocean’s Eleven?’ enquired Simi.

‘Just get on with it,’ Meagan squawked, shooing her away.

Simi looked out into the throng of drinkers. She could do this. She would find an uptight George Clooney circa Ocean’s Eleven. She moved off with the determination of The Predator looking for a new skull to claim.

The moment Simi saw him, she knew he was the one. His greying Brylcreemed quiff was just visible above the tops of people’s heads. He was a good ten years older than everyone else. Instead of the usual Shoreditch uniform of a moth-bitten T-shirt and skinny jeans, he wore a fitted shirt and suit trousers. A city boy in search of a trendy drinking dungeon, Simi decided. She breezed past him for a quick reconnaissance. Initial impressions were good. He was alone, hopefully waiting for a friend not a date. No wedding ring, nice shoes, attractive and he looked like he could read the hell out of a book. Jemima would love this guy.

‘Hello,’ Simi said casually leaning on the rocking horse next to him. The horse lurched under her weight and she stumbled forward.

‘Hello.’ He smiled. ‘Ride here often?’

‘What… Oh,’ she laughed, thrusting her hand at him. ‘Simisola. It means rest in wealth.’

‘Beautiful name. I’m Lance. Means lover of Arsenal.’

Simi laughed again looking into his sultry brown eyes. I should keep this one for myself, she conspired before remembering the rules and rubbing her crystal.

‘Look, I’ll cut to the chase. My friend fancies you,’ she said.

‘It’s like I’m 15 again. Tell her to meet me after double French,’ he chuckled.

A broad grin spread across Simi’s face and she decided to go for broke. She told Lance all about her fantastic but almost unattainable author friend, surprising herself with how easily the patter flowed.

‘Plus, she has excellent general knowledge, like Trivial Pursuit good and she volunteers at Christmas. Well she did once and that’s once more than me,’ Simi said.

‘She sounds too good to be true. Where is this dream woman?’ Lance smiled.

‘Wait there!’ said Simi almost in shock as she scurried back to the girls, eyes wide with delight.