Four minutes later she was out of the door wearing three-quarter-length green Capri pants and a crocheted top she’d bought from a beach vendor in India. It was supposed to have another layer underneath it, so she threw on a neon exercise bra. Only when she got to the main road did she realise she’d have looked less ridiculous leaving the house in her pyjamas. She’d also failed to grab a coat and it was freezing outside.

The Underground would be the quickest route to Westminster. She ran along the pavement, her limbs flailing like a baby giraffe’s. Outside Willesden Tube station was a large white sign: ‘Transport For London regrets to inform you that due to an incredibly pungent sewage leak, the Jubilee Line is not in operation tonight. Happy New Year folks!’

Great. She carried on running to the bus stop; there was a bus in eleven minutes but she didn’t have eleven minutes to lose. She’d get a cab and blow the expense, but on New Year’s Eve she wouldn’t have a hope. Her Uber app said twelve minutes. Suddenly out of nowhere, like a mirage on wheels, a black cab with its light on drove around the corner. She sprinted up the street towards it, only to have a man ahead of her on the pavement flag it down moments before she got there.

‘Oh no! Oh please! I really need that cab,’ she said, breathless, catching up to the man as he opened the car door.

He turned to look at her and scowled. This was not how London worked – black cabs were first-come, first-served; they didn’t work on a ‘who needs it most’ basis. His look informed her that she wasn’t abiding by the rules.

‘If I don’t get to Westminster Pier in forty minutes, I’m going to miss proving to the man I love that I’ve changed. He’ll set sail and it will be too late!’

The man looked her up and down, taking in her outfit. He glanced at his watch then sighed, ‘I’m headed as far as Charing Cross – we can share and split the fare?’

‘Oh, thank you!’ Minnie clasped her hands together and jumped up and down on the spot before ducking into the cab after him.

The man was in his twenties, with dark curly hair that tumbled down from the top of his head but was cut short at both sides. He wore jewellery – rings of silver and gold on every finger.

‘So your fella’s in the navy, is he?’ asked her cab mate as the car pulled away from the kerb. ‘Funny time to set sail.’

Minnie looked confused for a minute, rewinding their conversation in her head.

‘Oh no, he’s not in the navy, he’s going on a boat party,’ she explained.