Incoming text from Philip, a blast from the past. (He ordered ice-cream.) It reads as follows:
Are you single? I have in mind the ideal guy for you he even did ballroom at oxford can I give him your number to organise a blind date?
Philip doesn’t believe in full stops.
I’m considering what to say by way of reply, when my computer alerts me to a perfectly punctuated, oh-so-witty message, from Toby.
I re-read the text, and send back:
Best. Text. EVER. Yes, I am single, and yes, why not?! Does he have a name?
Who cares? Does he have a pulse?