Then the man in the Hawaiian shirt dropped into the chair, swinging one tattooed arm over the back, opening his legs wide – manspreading, she believed was the term – and favouring Sasha with an excellent view of his groin. Middle-aged, thickset, hair slicked back by lots of product.

‘Now you look interesting.’ Sasha leaned forward. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Darren.’ The man’s legs opened and closed like a pair of elevator doors. ‘Call me Daz.’

‘Hello, Daz, I’m Sasha. Tell me about yourself.’

He grinned. ‘I’d rather we talked about us.’

Sasha gasped. It was an audacious start.

‘I’ll be honest with you, Sasha.’ His knees snapped together so that he could swing closer to the table. ‘You’re not my usual type, you’re probably a decade older than I’m used to.’

Sasha smiled sadly. ‘Devastated.’

‘But when I saw you earlier, I knew immediately, I said to myself, Daz, there’s something about that woman. She’s got a…’ Wiggling fingers heavy with jewellery in front of his face, he struggled to conjure the exact word. ‘A twinkle.’

Sasha listened gravely. ‘Do I really?’

‘You got a way about you. A mystery. Despite the…’ He grimaced at her unexpected shock of long white hair.

‘Go on,’ she said.

‘Wanna know what I’m thinking?’ Darren gestured around the pub. ‘This whole event is a big fat waste of time. It’s a charade.’

Sasha blinked. ‘Is it?’

He jerked his head, come closer, and Sasha leaned in. Darren picked up the sheet of paper and tossed it over his shoulder.

‘You don’t need to mark a stupid scorecard, because our attraction is obvious. We’re like two ends of a magnet, me and you, compelled to attract. I see the desire in your eyes.’ His hands framed her face in the air. ‘Your beautiful eyes, which are like two hazel windows to your soul.’

‘Oh, Daz.’ Sasha swallowed. ‘And what do you see in my windows?’

‘I see a sensitive, sophisticated woman with womanly needs and appetites. You’ve got a thing for me.’ His eyes fastened on hers, tongue sliding slowly along the length of his top teeth. ‘And, no bullshit, I’ve a serious thing for you. So let’s get out of here, let’s go somewhere more… intimate.’

‘I’d love to talk to you more. I know just the place we can go.’

Darren gave a satisfied grunt. ‘Now we’re talking.’

His hand crept across the table, but she coyly moved hers into her lap.

‘Let’s go to the station,’ she said.

‘The Station.’ Darren narrowed his eyes. ‘That a trendy new bar, is it?’

‘Oh, Daz, you’ve been to the police station many times.’ The bell dinged and Sasha made a sad face. ‘Time’s up, I’m afraid.’