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I slam the door to the ballet studio, late as ever. I am in leg warmers, woolly top, woolly shorts.

It is sub-tropical in the glass studio. The sunlight is skimming across the sprung floor, giving the dancers’ bodies an amber tint as they stretch on the bars.

“Hello stranger,” V says, smiling at me.

“Hello!” I say, grabbing a place at the barre and stripping off my layers.

“Long time no see?” she says, hoisting her leg on the barre and leaning over it.

I throw my hands into the air as the music starts. “Exam hell. Relationshipness,” I say. “We’ll talk later,” I say as I arrange my body into first position and attempt to copy the exercise.

“Sounds hellish,” my teacher’s voice says behind me. He looks me up and down as I plié. “It’s done your figure wonders though. Really slimmed you down.”

You would only ever hear this in a ballet class.