It’s more than I was getting in my relationship – regular sex.

I finish my wine.

Sitting opposite, wearing a lilac smock dress with pink leggings and navy Mary Jane sandals, sweet, wide-eyed Poppy has told me sex is a basic need. A need she has no qualms in satisfying outside of a proper relationship. And no one gets hurt in the process.

‘Poppy?’

‘Yes, my angel?’

‘If one was of a mind to find a shag buddy, how would they go about it?’ I say. ‘Asking for a friend, obviously. But I don’t think I could do the whole internet thing.’

Her mouth forms a small grin.

I return her smile broadly.

‘I know a place,’ Poppy says, beaming. ‘If you like, we could go now?’

31

We have a few drinks in the upstairs bar while things warm up inside and hit the downstairs dancefloor of the salsa club around 9 p.m. The place is hot, dark and heaving with people. From the moment Poppy and I enter, the odds are stacked in my favour: men outnumber women two to one. The men predominantly young, attractive Latinos, clad in white T-shirts and skin-tight black trousers. The women mostly English, older and dressed up to the nines. I’m still made-up from the shoot, slightly sloshed on wine and gin and tonic and feeling fruity.

We order sangria. As we’re waiting at the bar, a strapping young man introduces himself as Carlos. Without further conversation, he asks me to dance.

We hit the floor. Carlos, wrapping his muscular, olive-skinned arms around my waist, guides me into an erotic, three-steps-to-a-four-beat rumba across the polished wood. Thankfully, this womanly, curvy body of mine can move: my parents being of an older generation, I’ve been dancing to waltzes, swing, rock and roll and all sorts at weddings, parties and celebrations with them since I could walk. I’m a natural with the salsa beat. I’m fit from all my gym workouts. I’m an instant fire-cracker on the dance floor in the arms of sexy Carlos – I’ve got this.

I glance back at Poppy and she gives me a congratulatory thumbs-up. I sway and turn with sizzling dexterity. My hips swivel. Carlos pulls and pushes me with his masterful manliness. My body moves in perfect time. My eyes are fierce. My endorphins flood.

After our second, madly passionate routine, Carlos tells me he has to dance with other people. Turns out, he works here. He promises he’ll be back to move some more with me as soon as he can and, true to his word, he is. With assurances that I’m happy for her to do so, Poppy leaves me to it.