‘Hmm.’ I twist my mouth and ponder that one. I don’t like letting other people control anything in my life – unless they’re a plumber and I need a pipe fixing, or something like that. Fixing stuff that I can’t, or don’t want, to do.

‘You’d let a waiter recommend the best dish on the menu, wouldn’t you?’

‘Maybe. As long as it’s not bull’s penis, or crispy ants, or something like that.’

He raises an eyebrow. ‘You seriously go to places that serve stuff like that?’

‘No, I watch I’m a Celebrity, but I mean, you never know.’

‘You are a bit strange, you know, lesson 16,’ he waves a finger, ‘don’t scare the shit out of the guy. If he looks like he survives on worms and roadkill then fine, otherwise,’ he shakes his head, ‘don’t mention eating dicks, not of any kind. Not dried, salted or skewered, definitely not skewered.’

‘It was just an example.’ It was. And I could actually imagine Noah eating weird stuff for a dare. Maybe not a penis, but we all have our limits. ‘Are we really on lesson 16?’

‘At least. So, er, let a guy make a decision now and then?’

I nod, slightly sheepishly. How on earth did I get onto eating willies and worms? He waves a hand.

‘Come on, we’re sitting over there.’ I think this is his demonstration of a man making a decision, so I nod dutifully and smile, and follow him. I am trying my best to listen to everything he is trying to teach me. Even if some points seem a bit misguided.

‘Some men like women to make the decisions, you know!’

He shakes his head. ‘Not the type of man you need in your life.’

‘Meaning?’

‘You don’t want a doormat, Rosie! You need a challenge!’ He winks. ‘Trust me!’

I mock-sigh. Trouble is, I am beginning to trust him quite a lot. Well at least his judgement on how to catch a guy, I’m not sure about his picture of the actual guy.

When all this is over, I can tweak things to suit though. Nobody sticks one hundred per cent to what they’ve been taught, do they?

Noah chose this place, it’s a bit off my beaten track, a bar I’ve never been to before, and I think we’d got a kind of unspoken agreement that our meetings would be away from my normal haunts.

I’m impressed now I get a chance to look around. I’d got tunnel vision when I walked in; my tummy was full of butterflies, my legs on the wobbly side (partly down to the heels) and my knees practically knocking (blame the skirt). I’d been concentrating on making it to the bar – and Noah – without either falling over or chickening out.

Now I can actually understand why women going down the red carpet hang on to a partner. They are literally hanging on; it’s got more to do with balance than attraction. It reduces the risk of falling over due to temporary lack of shoe control, or lack of leg control linked to the nervous shakes.