Emma took off her jacket, and then got out her bag of Maltesers at the ready. She opened the pack as quietly as she could, as the intro music of the movie started up, passed them around amongst their group, then carefully wedged the pack between her knees to avoid any spillage.

Ten minutes into the film, she felt a nudge at her knee-cap, and acknowledged Nigel about to dip in to the pack. She hadn’t time to lift the pack out, so nodded as if to say help yourself. She felt a slight rummage as he took a couple, smiled at her, then they both carried on watching the film. It was the latest Bond, action-packed as you would expect – there was a high-speed car chase whizzing on noisily at the moment. At least they didn’t have to make conversation any more.

Ten minutes or so later, she felt another little dig between her knees. Bloody hell, he was dipping in again. So much for not liking chocolate! This time, as his hand slid out of the pack, it brushed lightly across her knee. Was that on purpose? But she couldn’t be quite sure. She lifted the pack up a bit to rest on the top of her leg. She felt slightly uneasy – but it was probably her imagination getting the better of her. She settled back to watch the film, taking a few more sweets for herself, enjoying that initial chocolate melt then the malty-sweet crispiness.

Fifteen minutes on and Bev smiled across at her, mouthing, ‘Good film.’

She smiled back, yes, at least the film was okay. She needn’t be rude about the company; they just didn’t have much in common, that was all, but she could just muddle on and see out the evening.

She jumped in her seat as an armed criminal leapt out at Bond from a sidestreet. And then the Maltesers bag started to go again. Nigel was staring straight at the screen whilst rummaging a little more than was strictly necessary, then his hand tracked slowly up her thigh. Okay, this was no accident. She’d moved the bag on purpose, so no physical contact need be made between them. She darted him a stern look, as if to say: I know what you’re up to, matey, and it stops here!

He gave a small, weaselly smile in return, and then popped a Malteser slowly into his mouth. The letch! She might as well have been on a date with Alan Fondle Fingers from the village at this rate!

Emma stiffened, trying to avoid any bodily contact at all, which was hard considering how narrow the seats were, and they had shared armrests. She folded the sweet packet down, pushed her knees tightly together and propped her hands on top of both legs protectively. That should stop him. But was she being paranoid?