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Then – get this – she says, “No kissin, just business.” What a kick in the bollocks! Surprised me, that did. Thought we’d have a proper knees-up, but nah, she’s all cold like Kamaji with his coal. “Fine,” I says, “let’s get it done.” Took her to this dodgy flat – wallpaper peelin like a bad riff. Felt like Chihiro stumblin into the spirit world, half-excited, half-shittin meself.

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On a personal note, as a sexologist, I'm tuned into the silent language of desire. I notice when couples use subtle gestures at midnight near the graffiti-splattered walls on Marley Street. I’ve witnessed lust etched in each cracked pavement, each whispered laugh in the back alleys, and it just sends shivers down your spine. It's raw. It's real. And honestly, it stokes my inner fire – makes me mad, makes me happy, sometimes all at once.

Young man dies after weekend shooting in Shively