‘Sixty-five but he’s got dementia, diagnosed a few years ago. Early onset. He began wandering around all over the place. Getting out at night. It’s the best place for him, round the clock care.’ Ian said flatly. His tone jarred me. Not quite as sincere as I thought.

What’s his name?’ I asked.

Ian’s smile faded. ‘David. So, what do you do? I don’t think I’ve ever asked,’ he said, changing the subject.

‘Well, I was in marketing, although I’m in between jobs at the moment. I got made redundant before Christmas so just taking a bit of time to figure out what I want to do next. What about you?’

‘I’m an Account Exec for Dunnes Advertising.’ That explained the fancy apartment block. Did he drive a Porsche too?

‘How old are you?’ I blurted out without thinking and he nearly choked on his drink laughing. It struck me he could be a bit older than I first thought.

‘Thirty-two. You?’

‘Twenty-five,’ I replied. Why was he not married? Because he was a fucking rapist, that’s why.

‘We haven’t done favourite colours yet.’

‘Purple.’ I didn’t hesitate.

‘This is like speed dating with quick-fire questions.’ I could see he was being sarcastic.

For the next hour, I let him dominate the conversation and went with the flow. He wanted to find out about me, where I lived; what I did for fun, where my parents were? I didn’t give any specifics, instead skirted around the truth so I couldn’t be caught out later. There wasn’t much in the way of flirting, although I was no expert. Jane always said you should leave them wanting more, so at around half ten and three mojitos later, I made an excuse to leave, telling Ian that I needed to get up early in the morning. He offered to wait with me for the taxi and didn’t seem perturbed that I didn’t want to go on anywhere else.

Throughout the evening he’d been a perfect gentleman, helping me on and off with my coat and insisting he went to the bar for drinks. I wasn’t allowed to get my purse out once. Everything I’d learnt, apart from the obvious desire to be in control, I found difficult to reconcile with the predator I knew him to be. I stared at his eyes, fascinated by their lack of depth. He appeared empty, devoid of emotion, but he put on a pretty good act. I could see how he had everyone fooled. The charming successful bachelor. I bet he did charity work too.