I’m showered and shaved, exfoliated and moisturised. I’ve blow-dried my hair and styled it up, not very dissimilar to the way I wore it last night, and again, my make-up is light. This is intentional, the guy has already seen me at my worse almost five nights ago. He obviously didn’t mind my au naturel appearance then, so it’s good enough for him now. I stare at my reflection, noting the time behind me; seven-thirty.

Thirty minutes for it all to go terribly wrong.

I study myself for longer than I’m generally comfortable with. I have gone over and over in my head what I will say if the worst...