Fast forward to the following Tuesday evening . . .

Oh god, it's hot.

Oh so very hot. I'm burning up. Breathing hard.

My body is slick with sweat as I lower myself down . . . into what is probably my thirtieth squat in the last ten minutes. I know I have to move onto my next round of burpees now, and I really, really don't want to do any more of those. Burpees are the devil.

Actually, I revise, even Satan would possibly renounce himself, and change his ways, just to avoid having to do even just one rep of that particularly hellish move.

"Come on, girls!" My instructor Tilly shouts from the front of the studio. "You've only got three minutes left! Get your arses into gear!"

Contrary to what you might think, I am not in some sort of boot camp, or CrossFit. (I actually did a one-off free trial of a CrossFit class once. I couldn't hold my body up straight for approximately five days afterwards.)

"No, you come on, Tilly!" Kim yells back at the petite blonde. She's halfway through a press- up, about a full round ahead of me, and barely puffed out, much to my chagrin. "Do you have to be such a slave-driver? This isn't the army; it's a pole fitness class for God's sake!"

Tilly laughs. It's okay for her. She's sitting cross-legged on the floor, playing Words With Friends on her phone, while the rest of us try not to die. "Just trying to get you strong for the pole," she shrugs. She always insists on five minute of stretching, followed by ten minutes of torture, before we're even allowed to touch the poles. She says it's important to build up our cores, and arms, and . . . Stuff like that. I don't always listen to the technical bits.

(Incidentally, why is it that every time I mention "the pole" it automatically makes my sentence sound suggestive?)

I said before how I often like to take up new hobbies after a break-up, didn't I? Well, pole fitness was the hobby I opted for after my split from Jamie, the ex before Declan.

We won't even go into the disaster that was Jamie. Let's just say, he borrowed a lot of money from me that I never saw again . . . and one of my friends saw his freshly-created profile on a dating app while we were still going out.

When I'd confronted him about it, he'd said he hadn't realised we were exclusive.

We'd been seeing each other for 18 months at that point.

I really know how to pick 'em, eh?

Anyway, in amongst my misery after that break-up, I'd spotted some pole fitness clips on YouTube and it had piqued my interest immediately. I'd found a class, enlisted Kim to actually force me to go through with it, and quickly became a little bit addicted.

Just to clarify for those who aren't already aware, pole fitness is not the same as pole dancing. It's essentially a form of gymnastics, using the pole as a piece of apparatus. It requires a lot of strength and, sometimes, quite a lot of bravery. We do fancy spins, complicated poses.

Well, I say "we" but . . . I don't. I can't. I love pole fitness, but it does not love me. I'm not very good at it, and I hate that. I absolutely loathe being bad at anything. So I'm determined to get better.

It's been a year and a half now though, and my progress is slow. Very slow. But I still love to see the improvement I make with each class.

The ten minutes of torture has ended, and we're finally permitted to do the part of the class we're actually there for. Tilly always spends a bit of one-on-one time with us during the class - showing us new moves or giving us pro-tips on what we're currently working on - so she walks over to me first. Probably because I'm the class dunce and she feels sorry for me.

She shows me a spin which she describes as "looking fancier than it actually is", somewhat proving my above theory. I'm pretty sure she goes home after each class I'm in, and googles "pole fitness moves for dummies" especially for me. Then she suggests I work on my pole climb. Last week she showed me two different ways to do this, both of which I failed at. However, I did manage to reach the ceiling by scrambling up the pole like a clumsy monkey, so if that ever becomes a certified technique then I've completely nailed it already.

"So how's your week been?" She queries cheerfully, as I finally beg for mercy.

"Hmmm, not the best." I roll my eyes.

"You really don't want to know," Kim adds, from a really uncomfortable looking position on her own pole. "It involves two guys, a missing handcuff key, a brutal dumping, and a humiliating rejection."

Tilly somehow manages to look both intrigued and horrified at the same time. "I won't ask any further questions then," she laughs nervously, and moves on to help one of the other, far more advanced, girls.

"So have you seen Ric since the aforementioned humiliating rejection?" Kim asks, casually hooking her legs back onto the pole and sliding down to the floor. As soon as she stands up, she throws herself into a beautifully executed chair spin. Show-off.

I shake my head. The memory of Friday night still causes my cheeks to burn with shame. "There's been no sign of him. And he hasn't even tried to steal any of my food."

And that somehow makes it worse. I actually want him to nick my groceries so that things seem normal between us again. Well, as normal as they ever actually were between us.

"I need the balance of power back," I say, staring unseeingly at the lists of pole moves on the wall. "Until now, I've always been in the right, and he's been the bad guy. Now I'm the one who basically tried to sexually assault him so I'm the bad guy. I hate that."

"You're so dramatic, Abby," Kim sighs, rolling her eyes. "You tried to kiss him, it lasted two seconds. I'm sure he doesn't feel like you assaulted him."

"You didn't see the look of horror on his face," I counter, slumping against my pole. "How can I make things right, if I never see him?"

"Leave him a note? Or some food?" Kim suggests.

That actually might be a good idea, I think later, as I sit on the subway home. I pop into Waitrose and pick up a pizza, remembering his little jibe about preferring meat toppings. Sausage seems suitably "meaty" enough for him so I opt for the fancy spicy Calabrian Salami version. It sets me back £6.60, which makes me fume - I could get a half-decent bottle of wine with that - but hopefully it'll be worth it to try and put things right between us.

There's still no sign of Ric when I get into the flat, so I scrawl a quick note on a post-it, and stick that and the pizza on his shelf in the fridge.

A peace offering. Again, I'm so sorry. A

When I wake up the following morning, the first thing I do is nervously head to the kitchen. The pizza has gone. It's been replaced by a packet of Peanut Butter Cups. And a reply to my note.

Sorry for what? ;-) Like I said, it's already forgotten. P.S. Thanks for the pizza. Here's some chocolate. R

Okay, I think, pocketing the chocolate and returning to my room. That was actually kinda sweet. I know I'm still going to be a bit embarrassed the first time I see him face-to-face after what happened. But clearing the air makes me dread it slightly less.

Back in my room, I pick up my phone and blink in surprise when I realise I have five missed calls and a voicemail from just after midnight. From Declan.

Fingers shaking, I access the voicemail. It's probably a butt-dial, I realise as I wait, holding my breath. Whatever you do, Abby, don't get your hopes up.

There's background noise. A deep breath. Then Declan's voice. He sounds drunk. He sounds . . . Miserable.

"Abby . . . I - I don't know what I'm doing." A long sigh. "What are we doing? Have I made a massive mistake here? We were good, weren't we?" A long pause. "I just - I wish I was with you right now. You're just . . . The best girl. Why do I always fuck this stuff up? Shit, I just . . . Miss you."

The message ends with a fumbling noise as he clumsily attempts to disconnect. But I continue to stand there, phone still pressed against my ear, mouth open in shock.

What was that?

Have you ever tried a pole fitness (or pole dancing) class? I actually did do pole fitness for about nine years . . . Never really did get very good at it so I'm definitely talking from experience here!

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