The screen changed again and now there was just Sophie Raworth on her own in the studio, looking perfectly poised, while in the background a muffled sound of protest could be heard, as if someone was being pulled out of a chair while having a hand forcibly placed across his mouth.

‘Apologies for that,’ said Sophie, ‘we appear to be having some technical difficulties. Now let’s move on to the sport.’

‘Let’s not,’ said Beverley, pressing the remote control to switch the television off. She turned to her daughter and shook her head. ‘That wasn’t good, was it?’ she asked.

‘Oh no,’ said Elizabeth, laughing as she picked up her phone and pressed the blue app with the cheerful little bird icon. ‘No, he’s completely fucked now.’

SPEED DATING

Everyone moved carefully towards the centre of the hall, circling the seats slowly like children playing musical chairs at a birthday party, and Nelson found himself in the centre of the group, facing a perfectly nice-looking woman only a few years older than him. The bell rang and they stared at each other and smiled.

‘Apparently, I’m Number 16,’ said the woman in an aggressive tone, pointing towards her sticker. ‘I’m not even worthy of a name, it seems. Typical.’

‘I’m Number 37,’ replied Nelson.

‘Lucky you.’

‘Actually, Number 16 is one of my favourite numbers. It’s a perfect square.’

‘A what?’

‘You know, two times two is four. Four times four is sixteen. You can’t do anything with thirty-seven. It’s a prime. I’ve always felt a little uncomfortable with primes.’

The woman snorted and shook her head. ‘Nerd,’ she said.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘I said you’re a nerd.’

‘Oh. Okay.’

‘I bet you keep lists, don’t you? To-do lists, and so on.’

‘I do, as it happens,’ admitted Nelson. ‘They can be very helpful.’

The woman laughed and placed her hands on her lap, each one positioned perfectly on a different knee. ‘Christ, how has it come to this?’ she muttered to no one in particular.

‘It’s been quite fine out for this time of year, hasn’t it?’ asked Nelson.

‘My father was a maths teacher,’ she said, ignoring his question. ‘He was a nerd too. And a prick.’

‘Really?’ he replied. A silence fell. ‘I had a maths teacher when I was in school,’ he added eventually. ‘It’s a small world, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But I wouldn’t want to be the one who had to clean it.’

He frowned. ‘What?’ he asked.

‘I said I wouldn’t want to be the one who had to clean it,’ she repeated. ‘The world, I mean.’

‘Why would you clean the world? How could someone do that?’

‘No, it’s a … it’s a joke. When someone says … actually, you know what, forget it, it doesn’t matter.’

‘Are you a cleaner?’ asked Nelson. ‘It’s fine if you are.’

‘Oh, I’m so glad I have your approval. Thank Christ that a man is telling me that it’s okay to be a cleaner.’