“Er, so . . . I can’t actually see the forms,” he says. He laughs and looks up. “But I’ve marked crosses where you need to sign.” He brings his head low over the table and squints. “Um,” he says. “Here’s one.”

He slides a piece of paper and a pen across the table toward me, his thumb held firmly partway down the page where I need to sign. I can see the cross; I can see it quite clearly, in black Sharpie at one end of a dotted line, but I don’t tell him. Instead, I pick up the pen, then feel where his hand is on the paper and use it as a guide. I feel his thumb with my fingertips. It’s very warm. I don’t know where this sudden decision to flirt has come from. I suppose, in this room, in the very dim light, I feel quite powerful. Men, I think, feel insecure in silence and much more confident when there’s the sound of traffic and other people all around. And this room is completely silent. I sign my name on the line.

“And where else?” I ask. He slides over another page, with his thumb there to guide me again.

“Okay, so, um. Basically, what you just signed is, you know, all the usual stuff.”

“Yeah,” I say.

“Can’t sleep in here, have parties, no openings, no gatherings over, like, five people. No open flames, obviously. No, like, dangerous chemicals.” He laughs. He seems nervous.

“It’s okay, I read it all online.”

“Sorry,” Ben says. “Probably should have told you all that before you signed, right?”

I don’t say anything. His eyes are wide. “Okay,” he says, and he starts gathering together all the pieces of paper on the table. “When would you like to pick up the keys?”

“Now? I’ll move my stuff in today.”

“Today? Wow, yeah, okay. That’s quick. I won’t have time to properly clean the studio, but if that’s okay?” He reaches into the pocket of his shirt and takes out the key to this room, and also four other keys for the front door and front gate.

“That’s fine. I’m starting an internship tomorrow, so I want to get moved in before.”

“Oh, sweet. Where? Will I know the place?”

“The OTA,” I say.

“No way!” Ben says. “The Otter? Very nice. There’s another girl here who interned there a while back. You’ll probably meet her. Her name’s Shakti.” He hands me the keys. In the dim light, he misjudges where my hand is and puts his hand in mine along with the keys. “Oops,” he says. I can see that he is blushing.

I smile. “Thanks.”

“Where did you say you live in Kennington? Anywhere near City and Guilds?” he asks, as he puts his bag on his back.