‘Right, hello!’ Iris rubs her hands together like she’s rubbing in moisturizer. ‘For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Iris. I’ve been leading improv classes for years and it’s all about getting back to your childlike self. We will be learning about the acting craft and comedic timings, but mostly everything will be unplanned or unscripted; created spontaneously by you guys, the performers. It is about un-learning all the bullshit in the world that tries to squash us down and force us to become smaller. Kids are joyful! Kids don’t get creative blocks, they just pick up the crayons and draw! We must reconnect with our younger selves. When we grow up to be adults, we don’t have fun any more. We are so self-conscious! So embarrassed! So British! In these classes, you will leave your self-consciousness at the door. I want you all to take a piece of paper from this hat.’ Iris walks around with an upside-down straw hat. ‘That’s it, take one and pass the hat on. Here are some pens. I want you all to write down the one thing you hate about yourself, or are self-conscious about, and then we are going to burn them.’

We all look around at each other nervously.

‘It’ll be hard to choose just one thing,’ I say, and most people laugh under their breath.

‘Same,’ says Checked-Shirt Guy.

I realize that something about him looks really familiar.

I write down: ‘Being jealous of my friends.’

I fold the piece of paper into a tiny triangle.

Iris kneels down to burn all the bits of paper in a little copper incense-burner on the floor, and all the tiny bits of paper go up in flames.

‘There is no need for us to read them out. The important thing is that you each know what you wrote down.’

Then Iris puts everyone in pairs and I’m joined up with the tall guy in the checked shirt, who introduces himself as Marcus. He looks around mid-forties and has salt-and-pepper hair. He puts his hands in his jeans pockets and stands next to me.

‘I know this might be a bit weird, but … you don’t remember me, do you?’ says Marcus.

‘Uh, no? Oh god, how do I know you?’

‘You’re friends with Cecily, right?’

‘Yes …’

‘I was at her baby shower. My mate Tom works with her and I was his plus-one for moral support. You were outside and—’

‘Oh shit,’ I laugh. My mind flashes back to the drunken haze. How embarrassing. I was outside with my vape, shoeless, slurring, waiting for a cab. ‘Sorry, god knows what I said to you,’ I say, cringing in front of him.

‘You were fine,’ he laughs, kindly. Crow’s-feet appear around his eyes when he smiles.

‘Now, guys! In your pairs, I want you to link arms. That’s it, get quite close to each other please. Get cosy!’ Iris shouts across the room.

We all do as we are told. We are scared not to, as Iris’s enthusiasm is enough to knock you over. The room suddenly feels quite hot.