She had a memory, blurred at the edges but bright in the centre, of being very small in a big room with lots of hexagonal tables. Each table had its own activity: drawing, painting, sticking, etc. At one table, the children were scribbling on sheets of paper with wax crayons; as Leah watched, beautiful patterns emerged from the scribble. The memory jumped forward: she was sitting at a table by herself, with a pile of paper in front of her, scribbling on sheet after sheet in an attempt to make the patterns come. A teacher, tall with alarming lipstick, had stooped to ask her what she was doing making such a mess – then explained, with a derisive laugh, that you had to put a lace doily under the paper before you rubbed it with the crayon.

The word ‘stupid’ had not actually been said, but Leah, aged two or three or four, had heard it anyway. It seemed to Leah that this was still her trouble – that she was stupid at sex. Obviously, she was missing something crucial, but she had no idea what that might be.

Chris was still asleep when she got up the next morning. Leah dressed as quietly as she could, but just as she was about to leave her phone pinged with an email alert and Chris sat up, blinking his confusion.

‘Where – oh – you’re going,’ he said.

‘I didn’t want to wake you.’

Chris shook his head to clear it of sleep. ‘Listen, tonight – I’m with friends tonight. But on Saturday, do you want to do dinner?’

‘Saturday I’m busy,’ Leah said automatically, shouldering her handbag and moving towards the door.

‘Well – how about Saturday – in three weeks’ time. Sorry it’s so far ahead.’

The invitation, although Leah couldn’t know this, was rooted in Chris’s personal code of chivalry rather than any genuine desire to see her again. He was asking her out simply because he couldn’t imagine not asking her out, now that he had slept with her. Chris had a strong conception of ‘what sort of guy’ he was, based on ideals of honour and courage and decency. He was not the sort of guy who slept with girls then never called them back. Really, casual sex sat uneasily with his deeply romantic nature. Whenever he fell short of this standard – as he had done two nights ago, with Lara – he would admonish himself sternly for a day or so, then do his best to forget the transgression completely.

Leah put her hand on the doorknob. Her instinct was to turn him down, as she had done with almost every other man she had ever slept with.