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We both take off the clothes covering our bottom halves, in a strange and routine way like two people undressing in a changing room.

I want to be tidy and not just toss my belongings around randomly so I fold my trousers and underwear neatly and place them on a sofa arm.

Then we both sit there for a second, half naked.

My naked arse is on her sofa and it’s brand new.

I don’t know why I’m thinking about that.

She then leans back into the sofa, putting her knees up. ‘Yeah?’

‘Umm, yeah?’

OK, we’re doing this. I climb on top of her, trying to angle myself correctly as she pulls her skirt around her waist. Should we get more naked? I’ll let her take the lead on that. I slide a hand over her vagina. Yeah, she’s not very aroused. I don’t know how to feel about that.

‘Do you want me to go down on you…?’ I ask her, sitting back.

‘Or I could…’ She puts a hand down and fingers herself gently and quietly, looking slightly ashamed that she’s not as aroused as me.

I am aroused and evidence of that is sitting between us quite awkwardly.

Should I kiss her? Hum a tune? I don’t know how to break this unease and it’s slowly killing me.

‘Yeah, just let’s go and I’ll get into it. ’

I don’t know what that means. She lies back on the sofa and I hold the base of my penis, lying on top of her, entering her gently.

We both sigh at the same time. OK. Please remember how good we both were at this.

Maybe we just don’t have enough vitamin D in our systems. It’s only about fifteen degrees outside.

I kiss her, hooking an arm under one of her knees, maybe I just need to hit that right spot, get deeper.

‘Maybe a little left,’ she tells me.

‘Me or you?’

‘You,’ she whispers.

‘My penis or my whole body?’

‘Your whole body.’

‘Here?’

From the look on her face, that might be a no.

I think we might both be in shock. Maybe we’d built this up too much.

Good sex will do that. It will warp your sense of space and time, giving you a moment that you’ll never be able to live up to.

This isn’t good sex. She knows it and I know it.

We’re too scared to admit it to each other.

Is it terrible that I can hear people on a pelican crossing outside?

‘You’re so pretty…’ I tell her, looking her in the eye, trying to give the occasion a bit more sincerity.

‘So are you…’ she tells me. ‘That’s the wrong word. This feels good.’

Not amazing, not superb, not any other type of superlative. Good. That’s the word we give kids who are just coasting, who are average in the classroom. I mean, it’s not awful but this isn’t Mallorca.

She smiles at me and wrinkles her nose. ‘This is all off, isn’t it?’

I nod sheepishly, still looking at her and still inside her. ‘I can’t…’

‘Yeah, do you want to exit the…’ she asks.

I nod my head and withdraw from her, my dick just sitting there woefully between the two of us. ‘You’re beautiful,’ I tell her. ‘I want this. I’ve wanted this since that villa, and I can’t believe I’ve found you again, but…’ I say, hoping I sound reassuring and authentic.

‘No, I get it. I want it too but there’s something…’

‘Missing?’

‘Yeah.’

I don’t think either of us are upset or offended, but more confused. We have bags and spades and great big sacks full of spark. When I return to memories of this woman, I can go hard in seconds. But what just happened there?

In my fantasies, I think about ripping her tights off with my teeth and burying my face in her. I want to fuck her against a wall and cover her mouth when she wants to come to subdue her screams. Why didn’t that happen? Is it me?

I look down at my penis again, slowly descending from position. I take off the condom and reach down to pick up the wrapper .

‘Tissue?’ Suzie offers, reaching to a coffee table. I wrap up the condom and hold it in my hand.

She looks into space, disappointment etched in her face, then reaches over to put her knickers back on.

‘I’m sorry,’ I mumble.

‘Christ, don’t apologise,’ she says, giving a shy smile. ‘It was probably a bad idea. You said those nice things and then I kissed you and I think we’re both just…’

‘Anxious?’

‘Exactly.’

I pull my pants and trousers up, doing up my top fly button. I didn’t even see her boobs. ‘Maybe we needed to warm up to this, go for a drink. We still hardly know each other really. For example,’ I say, panicking, ‘I don’t know your likes, dislikes?’

‘I like you. That much I know,’ she says.

‘I like you too.’

Even saying those words out loud doesn’t feel right.

Maybe we just needed to work our way up to this in the way normal humans connect in the real world.

They go for dinner, coffee, they find out details about each other, their personalities link up.

Perhaps we ran into this too soon, too eager to recreate a moment.

But there’s also a silence and I wonder if in the back of her mind she’s thinking what I’m thinking: what if that moment is gone? That would be awful.

‘SUZIE! You in there, girl? You got hot water? I think something’s wrong!’ a strong West Indian accent vibrates through the door, a hand knocking repeatedly.

Suzie grabs at her tights and throws them across the room. I straighten my shirt quickly and place the half-used condom in my pocket. The whole room is a frenzy. This is the energy we needed four minutes ago.

‘It’s just my neighbour,’ she tells me. ‘Hold up, Maureen!’

She looks all around the room to check we’ve not left anything too incriminating lying around and goes to open the door. When she does, there’s a lady standing there in a towelling robe and a shower cap.

‘Do you have hot water? I don’t have hot water. I’m trying to work out if it’s the whole floor, if so I’ll call the management company, if not…’ She suddenly sees me sitting there. ‘Ooh, child. You have company. Close your eyes, boy.’

I put my hands over my eyes. ‘I wasn’t looking, I promise.’

The lady pauses. ‘You know about hot water?’ she asks me.

‘I could have a look?’ I tell her, realising I also have my eyes closed under my hands.

‘Hold up,’ she says, walking up to me. ‘You’re not Paul, are you?’

I am unsure whether to reply as I can sense anger in her tone. Given the fire coming off her, I’m glad that I’m not Paul.

‘Oh god, no,’ Suzie says. ‘Maureen, this is a work colleague, Charlie. Charlie, this is Maureen,’ Suzie intervenes.

‘He’s nice-looking, girl,’ she says.

‘Maureen, he’s got his eyes covered, not his ears,’ Suzie loud whispers and I laugh.

‘Thank you though, Maureen. I appreciate the compliment.’

The room goes a little quiet though I can hear hushed whispers as they argue about something.

I don’t know if I should move my hands or if I should tell them it’s likely a fuse if their hot water is electric.

But as they stand there working out what to do, there’s only one question in my mind? Who the hell is Paul?