A short stocky man fresh from the bathroom and ready for a night out in the west end casually hangs on to the support rail on the tube whilst his tall leggy date for the evening flails around in front of him, her shiny black handbag bouncing on her arm beside her.

Smug self-satisfaction oozes out from behind his pursed smile. She’s tall and slender, her dark hair hangs most of the way down her back and her heels are as high off the ground as he likes them. She’s also his for the evening. And who knows, maybe even longer.

He’s put the effort in too. His shirt is from somewhere expensive and it’s been ironed too. His worn black jeans break on the shoe. The belt tightens just enough whilst the shirt covers the reality his pinned back shoulders try to draw her eyes away from.

From time to time he lets his boyish grin break into a smile to reveal a set of brilliant white teeth. Will she guess he’s had them done? Or will she just concentrate on the tan?

The doors slide open at Bond Street. She totters off the train looked on by him who proudly steps off after her full of hope for a successful evening.