Page 2 of Hook, Line and Single

‘Strong start. One point to you. Next?’

‘Umm, he could go one of two ways here. “I’m confused” or “I think we need a bit of space.”’

‘Which one are you going for?’

‘Can I have both?’

‘Of course. He used both, so you’re up to three points.’

‘Oh, God,’ I exclaim, getting into the game now. ‘He didn’t try “it’s not you, it’s me”, did he?’

‘He absolutely did. Four points. One to get.’

I wrack my brains, but I’m coming up short. Sam is watching me over the rim of her glass.

‘Come on,’ she prompts. ‘You’ve got the hard ones. This is a total no-brainer. Stop overthinking it. This is Jason we’re talking about, remember?’

I stare at her, willing inspiration to come, but my mind is blank. After a while, she sighs expressively. ‘Are you seriously telling me you can’t think what it might be?’

I’ve played bastard bingo with her several times before; unfortunately, Sam has a bit of a track record where choosing useless boyfriends is concerned. I try to cast my mind back to the previous game, after Kyle dumped her, and inspiration finally strikes.

‘“I hope we can still be friends!”’ I exclaim triumphantly.

‘Bingo! Give the woman a prize.’

I step forward and wrap my arms around her. Hers come up automatically in return, and I can feel her ragged breathing as her mood plummets again and she begins to sob against my shoulder.

‘Why is it always me?’ she moans indistinctly into my T-shirt after some time has passed.

‘I don’t know.’ I do have a suspicion, but she’s in no fit state to hear it. One of the many things that I love about Sam is that she throws herself wholeheartedly into everything she does. She’s enthusiastic almost to a fault, and that applies to her relationships as well. I secretly wonder whether this ‘all-in’ approach to life actually intimidates the men she meets, causing them to back away, usually after a couple of months. Jason’s typical of the breed; I try not to track it, but I reckon they would have been going out for eight weeks on Sunday if he hadn’t dumped her.

I hold her until she gently starts to release me.

‘Are you OK?’ I ask carefully.

‘No, but you know me. I’ll live. Maybe I’ll finally take a leaf out of your book and swear off relationships forever. How do you do it? Don’t you want to fall in love?’

‘What for? I’ve got Samson for cuddles, and who needs all the hassle and faff of disappointing sex with a man when vibrators exist? Simple, efficient and get the job done reliably, unlike a bloke.’

‘Jason said he didn’t think I was as “in” to sex as he was,’ Sam remarks sadly. ‘I did at least have a decent comeback for that.’

‘Which was?’

‘If he had the faintest idea how to please a woman, and didn’t come before I even had a chance to get going, I might have been more in to it.’

‘Nice. Hit him where it hurts. I read somewhere that men take it very badly if you criticise the way they make love or drive. There was a third one as well, but I can’t remember it.’

‘Shame. I’d have thrown that in too if I’d known. He’s a terrible driver.’ She giggles. ‘He thinks he’s so cool with his pimped-up Fiesta, but I hate that car. It’s noisy, uncomfortable and you can’t hear yourself think over the thudding of the stereo. I won’t miss that. Maybe I’ll creep round there in the middle of the night and scratch a motivational message into the custom paint job that he paid so much for.’

‘What would you write?’

She ponders for a minute. ‘“If I look like an arsehole and I sound like an arsehole, chances are I’m an arsehole.”’

‘I like it.’

‘On the other side, I’d write “I fuck like I drive. Badly.”’ She takes another swig from her glass, draining it completely before reaching for the bottle to refill it.

‘Why don’t you go and have a hot bath?’ I suggest. ‘I’ll call you when dinner’s ready, and then we can watch a weepy on Netflix if you like. That always cheers you up.’

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