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Christopher, it looked as if an invisible force had thrown her back into her chair as she stammered a nervous ‘hello.’
    ‘Amy, hi, I am so sorry I’m late,’ Christopher apologised, shaking her hand confidently and kissing her on both cheeks.
    ‘That’s okay, I only just got here myself a few minutes ago,’ she lied and swallowed hard.
    ‘I was held up at work on this new magazine I’ve been working on and then I got stuck in traffic.’
    ‘You said in your email you were a graphic designer?’ she asked, drinking him in and unconvincingly playing it cool.
    ‘Yes, I’m a freelance so I have a quite few projects on the go at any one time.’
    ‘Who do you design for?’
    ‘Mainly luxury trade magazines, you know, companies that build yachts or planes and brochures for holiday destinations that you won’t find at Thomas Cook,’ he boasted. ‘It’s very exclusive.’ She didn’t look as impressed as he had hoped.
    ‘Where are you based?’
    ‘I work from home in Holland Park which is convenient. Shall we order some drinks?’
    Christopher moved his glass so it sat next to Amy’s then opened the wine menu as the waitress arrived, and ordered the most expensive bottle on the list. ‘Will you be eating tonight?’ the waitress asked.
    He looked up and into the server’s eyes as she spoke, wondering what noises she’d make if his trusty garrote penetrated her throat and severed her thyroid cartilage. It fascinated him how each one of his sitting ducks had, so far, offered a different squawk from the last.
    Christopher looked at Amy and raised his eyebrows. ‘Do you have time for something to eat?’ he asked.
    ‘Yes, I’d like that,’ she replied, trying - but failing - not to appear too eager.
    As they both read their menus in silence, Christopher felt Amy’s eyes lift from the page to his face. He glanced at her and she offered an embarrassed smile, her cheeks flushed and her irises widened. He’d read enough about human behaviour to know that meant she was attracted to him.
    ‘I’m sorry, do you mind if I just quickly use the bathroom?’ she asked. ‘You can order for me if you like. See it as your first test to see how much of a Match we really are.’
                  ‘Of course,’ he replied and rose to his feet as she left the table.
    Impersonating a gentleman came easy to Christopher but other behaviours like reading facial expressions and being mindful of people’s emotions he’d learned from books and online. He rehearsed several different smiles as he waited for Amy to return, and checked his mobile phone to see where Number Eight was. He hoped she’d have returned home by the time he and Amy had finished their desserts because it was only a ten-minute car journey from the restaurant to the girl’s flat.
                  He spotted Amy slipping her phone back into her purse as she left the bathroom and wondered if she’d called a friend to inform them her first date with her Match was going well. It was clear she was one of the ninety-two per cent who felt an instant attraction to their pairing.
    Then, as she sat down, there was something about the way her tongue ran over her lips that gave Christopher a mild rush of blood to his head, like the first puff from a cigarette or when he jumped out of bed too quickly. He dismissed it as tiredness making its presence known and shook it off as quickly as it had arrived.
                  ‘Is everything all right?’ he asked his still visibly flushed date.
                  ‘Yes, I just had to make a call to work,’ she replied. ‘It’s been a chaotic few weeks.’
    ‘I don’t think I asked you what you did for a living?’
                  ‘Oh, I thought I’d mentioned it?’ Amy replied and took a sip of her drink, ‘I’m a police officer.’

CHAPTER 13
     
    BETHANY
     
    Bethany slept for around three fitful hours of her thirty-hour journey.
    Much of the flight from