I sighed, resigned to the fact there would be no getting out of it; Ben would be like a dog with a bone.

When we walked in to the boxing club, half an hour later, it smelt of sweat and cleaning products combined. I was expecting an old brick building, like in the Rocky films. This one was modern, housed in a warehouse on an industrial estate. There were a few men inside; two were pounding punchbags and one was skipping so fast you couldn’t see the rope. It was mesmerising, like a permanent arc of light.

I shrank behind Ben as soon as we walked through the door, using him as a shield. A tall, heavyset, mixed-race man, with short black hair in tight curls, came out of the office and gave him a slap him on the back before noticing me.

‘’Ello mate, how you doing?’ He was bouncy, with a slight cockney accent, and wore one of those ridiculous muscle vests. Although he had the physique to carry it off. They shook hands, the man pumping Ben’s arm so hard I thought it might fall off.

‘Not too bad, I see you got your lockers fitted?’

‘Delivered yesterday.’

I looked around. Everything gleamed. New equipment, modern silver lockers and specific zoned areas for each activity. The ring in the centre was enormous, with glaring spotlights overhead. Not at all what I was expecting.

‘It’s coming along. So, who is this young lady?’

They both turned their attention to me and fire rose in my cheeks. I was under the microscope.

‘This is Eve. My flatmate. Sorry, Eve, this is my good friend, Jason. We used to work together a few years ago.’

I held out my hand, ready to have my arm pumped, but Jason was much gentler with me. His dark eyes glinted, looking at me and then Ben. I wondered if Ben had mentioned me to him before?

‘Eve would like to learn a bit about boxing, using the bags and some technique perhaps?’

I glared at Ben, but if Jason noticed he didn’t comment. Five minutes later I had my hands wrapped in tape and shoved in gloves which were so big, it was comical. I looked like a clown.

Jason took his time explaining the correct way to punch, the movement coming from my shoulder, and how to pivot on my feet. It was a lot to take in and I’d never been a fan of boxing before, but it was fascinating. He gave Ben some pads and I punched them whilst we circled each other on the mats. At first, we were trying not to laugh, but it wasn’t long before I was sweating. My shoulders screaming at me to stop. I was so unfit.

‘You’re a natural,’ Ben said, laughing as he absorbed a blow, teetering on the heels of his feet before regaining his balance.