‘Oh, so it was my fault, was it? Well, Paul,’ my voice loud and laden. ‘See these? They’re called hips.’ I gave mine a Polynesian wiggle. ‘And they actually belong on a real woman. See these?’ I said as I pointed to my wine-stained chest. ‘They are breasts, not boobs. A boob is a mistake. There is nothing mistaken about these babies. In fact, some women pay to have them bigger – that’s very deliberate – no errors there, except in judgement. They are not boobs.’ His eyes were still fixated on my chest, which fuelled the fire all the more. ‘God, you men are all the same.’

With this rant of mine in full swing, Paul looked at first astonished, then bemused and as I finished the last, and I thought well-delivered line, he let out a loud laugh, and to my utter astonishment, stepped forward and kissed me squarely on the lips.

He stepped back, still laughing. ‘Good God, woman, do you ever shut up?’

I lifted my hand to my mouth. Did that just happen?

‘If I’m not allowed to use such blokish and apparently derogatory terms as boobs and bum, what am I allowed to use? Some sterile terminology?’ He put on a hoity-toity voice. ‘Why, what a lovely pelvic cradle you have. So perfectly balanced with your mammaries.’ It was my turn to stand, mouth agape. ‘I don’t think so. Sorry, Sam, but seeing as you hadn’t noticed, I’m a guy. If I like what I see I’m going to say something along the lines of “phorrrrrrrgh, nice arse” to go along with, “great rack”. It’s genetically imprinted in my DNA, along with that of every other red-blooded male in the world. So you need to lighten up and get over yourself. For Christ’s sake, what is happening in the world if a guy can’t give a girl a compliment?’

I gulped a bit more air before replying: ‘Compliment? Huh.’ Seeing as witty repartee failed me, I resorted to that other frequently used item in a girl’s arsenal and turned around and stormed off, well as much as you could storm through a crowded room. Maggie looked like she was about to wet herself, she was laughing so much.

‘I suppose you heard all that?’ I asked, as I reached over and grabbed my bag. Hopefully I’d find something in there that could deal with the spillage.

‘Above this din? Not a word. I didn’t need too. As they say, a picture tells a thousand words.’ She nodded in the direction I’d come from. ‘Don’t you think you’ve forgotten something?’

Ah, crap, the wine. I slowly turned my head and there was Paul, making his way over, a smug grin on his face. I turned and looked pointedly at the wall.

‘Ladies,’ he said, and I heard two clinks as he placed the glasses on the table.