Of course she did. She bloody well mentioned them enough. She was even in a Facebook page dedicated to the series – Jo had tried to join but there was a list of questions about the series of books and she’d no idea of the answers.

It didn’t matter; knowing about the books was enough. Hopefully, she’d never have to read them. Jo never read, couldn’t see the point. She’d looked at the Mapp and Lucia books on Amazon. The blurbs seemed interesting enough, but she still wasn’t tempted. When she saw there was a TV series based on the books, she searched for it and watched it, surprised to find it rather amusing and certainly entertaining. Now, she could hold her own if the series came up in conversation when she and Allison met.

That they would meet someday was never in doubt.

Pleased with how things were going, she wasn’t tempted to rush. ‘Softly softly catchee monkey’ was a motto she lived by.

A week later, in a different Facebook group, someone asked where everyone was from. Jo waited for a few members of the group to post a comment before adding Oxford and sitting back, chewing on her thumbnail until the corners bled.

Several comments were added before she saw Allison’s Oxford, then, afraid Allison mightn’t have seen her answer, she dared to reply.

We both like Mapp and Lucia and we’re both from Oxford!

When Allison gave her a laughing emoji, Jo punched the air. This was it: she was in. She waited a few minutes and sent her a friend request. It was an excruciating five hours before it was accepted, hours Jo spent alternating between pacing the living room of her tiny bedsit or sitting on the fold-up bed, chewing her fingernails, spitting bits of flesh onto the coffee table where they gathered like blood-tinged maggots.

When her friend request was accepted, she celebrated with a beer. She popped the tab and sucked up the foam that oozed before tilting the can back and gulping a few mouthfuls. One can. A minor celebration. Now wasn’t the time to rush in all guns blazing, and ruin all her hard work.

Slow and cautious, she waited for the right opportunity to develop the relationship, continued her observations and added to her notebook. Sometimes, she stared at Allison’s photo, clicking on the enlarge icon till it couldn’t get any bigger. Jo would search for wrinkles on the enviably perfect skin, for any blemish. She was ridiculously pleased to see the furrow between Allison’s eyes increasing over the years since she’d first started to watch her.

A frown. Maybe Allison’s life wasn’t as hunky-dory as social media indicated. Jo wasn’t a fool; she knew how it could be manipulated. When she met her, face to face, she’d know the truth.

Face to face.