A lot of my friends and favourite customers were there. No Jonathan, who had disappeared from my life again. But Mary was there with Nathan, and I hadn’t ever seen Nathan looking so happy. She’d told me the night before that she’d found a place in Clapton to move into; Nathan was going to help her move.

Helen was hassling me to give a speech when I felt hands on my waist, and I turned to see Sophie, smiling ruefully up at me.

‘You,’ I said.

‘Me,’ she said.

‘Are you Sophie Lancaster?’ asked Leo. ‘I’m a big fan of your column.’

‘Are you? I thought it was mostly women who read it.’

‘Oh, no, of course not. Not all men are uninterested in the perspectives of women.’

I thought I might be sick.

Sophie was coughing on her prosecco. ‘That’s a… refreshing attitude,’ she said, when she had recovered.

‘Do you mind if I give you a proof copy of my novel? Penguin are publishing it in January?’ said Leo.

I thought I might be violently sick.

‘Thank you,’ she said, glancing at me. ‘I’d love one.’

Leo looked at me too, then back to her. ‘Let me go and fetch you one. They’ve really pushed the boat out. Limited-edition hardbacks.’

‘Poor guy. I expect it’s going to be a huge flop,’ I said, when he had gone away.

‘Don’t be bitter, Paul.’

‘If you read the thing and like it and express that opinion in public, you will never hear from me again.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind in case it comes in handy.’

‘It’s nice to speak to you, though,’ I said, ‘in spite of that job you did on me in your article.’

‘It was you not doing a job on him, as I remember.’

‘There is a difference between being selfish and not wanting to give a man I’d just met a blow job.’

‘Not according to most of you men.’

‘You meet too many of the wrong sort. Like that phoney who’ll be back in a minute. I might write a book for women about how to spot awful men, seeing as a lot of you don’t seem very good at it. Paul has been a dickhead all his life. Join him as he reveals all the tricks that dickheads use to pretend they’re not dickheads. I have the shoutline already: It takes a wanker to know a wanker.’