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really strange. Of course I knew Damon had joined a band – they’re called Captain Magnet or some such rubbish – I even knew that one of the band members was called Jim. but I’d never thought for a moment that that Jim was the Boy Who Dresses Differently.’
    ‘And you didn’t say anything to him about him trying to snog you on Freshers’ Night?’
    ‘I couldn’t say anything, could I? I wasn’t sure if he recognised me or not or whether he was just teasing me for the sake of it. So I just bit my lip.’
    ‘Wow,’ says Jane, who never says ‘wow’ about anything. ‘What are you going to do?’
    ‘Nothing. I’m going to ignore him. Just because he’s Damon’s friend doesn’t mean I have to be best buddies with him . . . The thing is, though—’
    ‘What?’
    ‘I have to admit that I am just a little bit curious about him.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘Yeah. Is that weird?’
    ‘Do you think he’s good-looking?’
    ‘Up close, and in relatively normal clothing. I can see that some girls might find him attractive.’
    Jane laughs. ‘But not you?’
    ‘No, he’s good-looking in a too obvious way. You know how some men have deep-down handsomeness – you could crack them open and you’ll even find their bones fanciable?’ Jane nods. ‘Well, Jim’s the opposite. He’s surface handsome. No depth.’ I think for a moment, trying to get together the perfect sound-bite description. ‘He looks like the kind of boy easy girls go for.’
    Jane laughs. ‘He sounds like he’s just up my street.’
    10.17 p.m.
    I’m in the pub with Nick having an emergency session of the What Can We Do To Sort Out Jim’s Life Committee. Item one on the agenda (of which I’ve just told Nick the details) is that I once tried to get off with our guitarist’s girlfriend.
    ‘Do you think she knew it was you?’ asks Nick.
    ‘It’s hard to say. She seemed a bit off with me but that doesn’t mean much, does it? It’s not like it’s the first time a girl’s taken an instant dislike to me. But she was acting strange for someone who doesn’t remember me.’
    ‘As far as Damon goes, I don’t know what you’re worrying about,’ says Nick. ‘I reckon if you’d told him that you once tried drunkenly to proposition his girlfriend when you were a wet-behind-the-ears first-year he’d probably find it very funny. But let’s say for the sake of argument that his girlfriend does recognise you from that night, the fact is she’s chosen to pretend not to know who you are. So my advice is to keep quiet.’
    ‘That’s good advice but—’
    ‘Don’t say it.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘I know what you’re going to say and don’t say it.’
    ‘How can you possibly know what I’m going to say?’
    ‘Because your eyes have gone all squinty.’
    ‘They’ve done no such thing.’
    ‘Okay, then,’ says Nick. ‘Answer me this question. When you met her this afternoon, did you ask yourself if you fancied her?’
    ‘Yes, but—’
    ‘No buts. You know the Rules, don’t you?’
    I sigh and repeat in a monotone: ‘A bloke should never evaluate another bloke’s girlfriend for the purpose of rating her attractiveness if the first bloke considers the second bloke to be a mate.’
    ‘Exactly,’ says Nick.
    ‘But—’
    ‘What did I say about buts?’
    ‘But surely there’s a case to argue that as I’ve tried it on with Alison before she was Damon’s girlfriend the Rules don’t apply.’
    Nick laughs. ‘You’re right. That’s a massive legal loophole that I should get closed the moment I start fancying women who have rejected you . . . Okay, so what were the results of your extensive calculations and observations?’
    ‘Alison’s okay, very good-looking but not really my type.’
    ‘Given your chequered Goth-tinged past I’m not exactly sure what your type is.’
    ‘I suppose if I were to have a type Anne would be it. Although I’ve sworn off unattainable women.’
    ‘You mean unattainable women like our