I realise that Risky has gone into a daze. She is resting her hand in her palm and smiling at me. ‘The dream,’ she says, sweetly. ‘You’re married to the perfect man.’

I smile and nod.

‘Boss, can I ask you something? Woman to woman?’ she says, looking pensive, turning inwards from the table next to us. I am expecting a question involving place settings, or suchlike, so nearly choke on a fried mushroom when she says, ‘Do you think it’s weird that the guy I’m seeing only wants to do me up the bum?’

‘Pardon?’

‘It’s just that we’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks now and he’s all about anal. It’s like my vagina doesn’t exist to him. That’s not right, is it?’

I often worry that I don’t set enough boundaries as a boss, or make the line between work and friendship clear enough. What is apparent here is that I have absolutely not nailed that. I wipe the corners of my mouth with a napkin and do my best to say the right thing.

‘Have you done the anal?’ I ask, like a grandma trying to be cool.

‘Yeah, obviously,’ she says, as if I am stupid.

‘Oh yeah, I mean totally, obviously,’ I say. Followed by some strange faces and little pfffttt noises to reiterate that I think anal is completely normal.

‘I mean, I don’t mind it. I like it, actually. It’s probably my fault for asking him to do it in the first place. But I just wonder what his deal is, why he isn’t interested in my vagina.’

‘You asked him to do it?’ I ask, casually. It’s been so long since I’ve felt able to behave like a vixen that I had forgotten some young women make their own sexual demands. I used to.

‘Yes, I asked him on, like, our third date. So not too bad.’

‘Not too bad?’ I ask, unsure what she means by that.

‘Yeah, not so early that he might think I was slutty. Anyway, it’s all he wants now, I wondered what you thought? I respect your opinion on healthy relationships.’

I clear my throat, drink some cold coffee, close my computer, and try desperately to think of something to say.

‘Maybe he’s gay?’ I say, eventually, regretting it instantly.