‘And if you can go home tonight and tell your friends that I’m exactly the kind of unevolved caveman that you need me to be in order to reinforce your victim status, then you can walk away feeling morally superior. Which is all you really want, isn’t it? But the reality here is that you’re the one being rude, not me. You’re the one being disdainful and contemptuous, not me. And you’re the one making baseless assumptions about a virtual stranger, simply because it fits the narrative that you want to construct around yourself, not me. Has it ever occurred to you that, of the two of us, you might be the intolerant one? That you might be the bigot?’

A ping from behind him sounded the lift doors opening and he raised a hand in farewell.

‘Never mind, we’ll chat another time,’ he said. ‘Have a pleasant day.’

Stepping into the lift he pressed the button for the ground floor and stared at his own reflection in the mirror, feeling rather pleased with himself.

A few moments later, back on the street, he took out his phone, opened his Twitter account and posted the following:

@GeorgeCleverley Much love to Aidan @AQFC as he continues his transition. Brave, authentic & inspiring. #TransRights #TransPride #BraveNewWorld #TotalSupport

And then, without bothering to read any of the replies that immediately began to flow in, he returned the phone to his pocket and continued about his lawful business.

SEX TAPES

Elizabeth was already in the bath when she realized that she’d left her iPhone on the charging stand in her bedroom. This was the furthest a phone had been from her hand in several years and she guessed that this was how a mother might feel when separated from her child for the first time. There was a noticeable fluttering in her chest, a dry sensation in her mouth and a condition she called ‘itchy finger’, whereby the index finger of her right hand continued to move in a spasmodic and uncontrollable fashion. She didn’t feel like climbing out of the bath to retrieve it as the water was at the perfect temperature and the ratio of bubbles to body mass was ideal, but regretted missing the opportunity for a wonderful Instagram post. Short of calling out for one of her brothers to enter the bathroom and take a photo for her – which would have been weird – there was nothing, however, that she could do.

I’ll only be half an hour, she told herself, channelling the valiant spirit of Joan of Arc as she rode into battle at the Siege of Orléans. I can live without my phone until then.

The room was filled with silence and, although she was alone, she felt strangely self-conscious.

So, what do I do now? she wondered, passing one hand gently through the water while she blew some of the bubbles from the fingertips of the other, like a girl in a commercial for bath foam.