‘This guy … Oh I don’t know. This is so dumb.’ Penny sucked on her roll-up and exhaled loudly. She explained all about acquiring Francesco’s number and concluded with, ‘I’m going to text him. That’s what I came on to tell you. I’m going to text him because I am a grown woman in charge of herself and it’s not a big deal. That is what he gave it to me for. So I could use it. Which I am going to do. Use it. Me. To text him, Mr Hot Stuff, right now, in a minute.’

She stubbed out her cigarette with the heel of her trainer and gently tucked it into the side of a bay tree at the back door, in amongst all the other butts she told herself she’d ‘collect all at once’ to ‘save time’ but hadn’t done in about six months.

‘Anyway, tell me your news when you can. I know I just made this all about me. But, sisterly entitlement and all that, isn’t it. I just needed to talk myself into being brave. Love you! Send photos from Miami! I am now going to text the handsome man!’

Except, once Penny had sent the voice note, she sat staring at her phone, turning it over in her hand, most definitely not texting Francesco. She stared at the darkening sky and let out a sigh. Cristian hadn’t wanted her. Trevor hadn’t wanted her. The Iraqi estate agent hadn’t wanted her. Why would this guy be any different?

Dare I … she wondered. Images of Cristian playing on the dating app the night before flashed up in her mind, the shame and degradation washing over her once again.

‘Damn it,’ she said, unlocking her phone. She couldn’t get the idea of feedback from another man out of her mind. She thought about it for a minute and then typed:

Oh hey – me again. Penny. I was wondering if I could ask you one thing. Not being weird or anything, but I think there’s something you could help me with?

She was in luck: it came up at the top of the screen that Cristian was online, and then that he was typing back.

… ok??? Cristian replied.