The next day, I'm frankly confused. So, my friend Lee takes me to Brighton. We dash in and out of the waves, laughing like children.
Then we order cocktails and Lee tries to sort things out. I explain how the boy just isn't fitting into my life very well. He nods.
"Maybe you're not in the mood for a relationship. Then again, some people just aren't emotionally very mature."
I frown, puzzled by this.
Lee brightens. "Anyway, shall we go to The Lego Shop?"
We go, and we have a brilliant time. Then we have dinner, and drinks, and pointing at silly things. Lee quietly tries to tell me that he's worried I'm an alcoholic. Well, actually, what he says is "Listen, alcoholics like you...". And then I get a late train back to London, and curl up at home with a pack of ten Lucky Strikes and Battlestar.