“I’m not looking for romance or love,” said Cicely. “I just want to be a paid girlfriend. I mean,” she looked at her list, “you, Terry, want a girlfriend and I want money.”
“How much money?”
“Forty pounds a date. There would probably be extras,” she smiled broadly.
“On this planet, that’s not called a paid girlfriend, Cicely.” I kept a straight face.
“OK, Barry, if you change your mind, here’s my card—and there goes the bell!” She pivoted and leapt away.
“Hi, I’m Amanda.”
Amanda didn’t mention money at all. She had the beginnings of a moustache, though.