‘That’s very romantic,’ said Achilles, smiling. ‘The stuff of a Hollywood movie. Of course, another thing that often happens in Hollywood movies is the naïve girl who falls for the handsome man gets murdered by him and he wears her skin as a coat. You don’t think that’s going to happen, do you?’

‘I hope not,’ admitted the ghost.

‘I could come with you, if you like. Keep you safe.’

She smiled. ‘It’s a generous offer. But no.’

‘Well, don’t say I didn’t offer. Anyway, he’s a lucky man,’ he added, bowing his head chivalrously. ‘And whoever left their phone in your care should feel happy that he or she set this great romance in motion.’

The ghost pulled a face. ‘I’m not sure that she’d be completely thrilled,’ she said. ‘It belonged to a woman he was dating. Well, I say dating, but she was actually paying him for sex.’

Achilles frowned. ‘You’re dating a rent boy?’ he asked.

‘No, it’s not like that. They were seeing each other and, apparently, she liked to give him financial gifts afterwards.’

‘I like the sound of this guy more and more. I could probably learn a lot from him. So, the other woman doesn’t know yet?’

‘She doesn’t even know that he’s coming back to London this evening, and she’s been calling him relentlessly.’

Achilles looked up at the Tube map as the train started to slow down.

‘This is me,’ he said. ‘Which stop are you?’

‘The next one,’ she replied. ‘And I didn’t even get a chance to hear about where you’re going.’

‘Oh, it’s far less interesting,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t worry about it.’

He stood up and looked down at her.

‘I have this overwhelming urge to kiss you,’ he said.

‘Resist it,’ she replied. ‘I’d hate to see a young boy like you embarrassed in front of a Tube full of strangers.’

He grinned and nodded as the train pulled to a stop.

‘I’d better get off,’ he said. ‘But I’ll look forward to our next encounter.’

‘I’m sure you will.’

‘Have fun with the sugar baby.’

‘Have fun with whoever you’re meeting.’

He made his way to the doors and stepped out, minding the gap. Just before they closed again, he turned around and shouted back in to her.

‘Hey!’ he shouted. ‘You still haven’t told me your name!’

EFF TWITTER

Beverley was busy preparing dinner by scanning the different options on a food-delivery app while Elizabeth was seated on the sofa, barefoot, tweeting as @TruthIsASword. During this particular session, she’d exchanged insults with the wife of a Premiership football player who’d been accused of impregnating two different women in recent months, with a consultant at a London abortion clinic and with a Big Brother housemate from 2007, all of whom were now threatening legal action. She had also sent abusive tweets to @jk_rowling , @OwenJones84 and @ElonMusk , and was hoping that one of them might take the bait but, to her disappointment, none of them were biting as yet. She knew that a response from a blue-ticked person was so much more powerful than a reply from a civilian, for the moment someone famous engaged with her, her followers would grow exponentially. It didn’t matter in the slightest what any of them said, they could be as rude as they liked, as long as her numbers kept increasing. @JohnCleese had snapped at her once, calling her a ‘stupid woman’ and that had been good for an extra five hundred.