Gerald was thinking, really thinking, on his way home from the consultant. He had never lived up to his parents’ expectations. If he had been a colour, it would be beige. There was no glamorous wife, no family, no mansion and come to that, no hair.

Gerald had never lived his life in the fast lane; he’d always been happy to go with the flow, take the path of least resistance, but he decided that with the time left to him, he was going to try out the fast lane. Sex, drugs and rock n roll. Where to start? He was already having plenty of drugs he reasoned, so it would have to be sex or rock n roll.

Fortunately, he had a rainy day fund.

He planned a trip to the bank first thing in the morning, followed by a fancy pants coffee and a big, squidgy slice of chocolate cake, worth at least a trillion calories.

Gerald opened his iPad and typed in rock n roll. The first image made the waitress drop his cappuccino, and a sweat broke out on his brow. He decided to continue his research in the privacy of his own home.

A cruise would cover all his bases, Gerald thought. His imagination conjured up images of busty blondes, wealthy widows looking for ‘lurv’. Although his time was limited, there was still life in the old dog yet. He had plenty of energy left for a few adventures beneath the sheets, and there was the added benefit of 24-hour medical cover in case his heart wasn’t up to all this sudden activity.

A few weeks later, he eased his way into the limo, which was part of his premium package. He took his time in the hope that as many of his neighbours as possible would see, and then he was whisked off to Liverpool docks.

The next morning, he woke up and realised the ship was a disappointment. The reality was a million miles from the pictures in the brochure. Maybe it would be better when the sun came out and he could take off his jumper. Things took a decided upturn when he chanced across breakfast. Strangely, there were few people there and those that were had the green tinge of seasickness about them.

It was then he saw her, his soulmate, tucking into bacon and eggs with gusto, her blonde Shirley Temple curls bobbing over her cuddly sweater with a picture of a unicorn on the front. How stylish, he thought. There was possibly a little bit more of her than he could handle, but he felt up to the challenge. Easing his crimplene trousers over his belly and checking his comb-over, he did his best Hollywood heart throb saunter (he had been taking lessons from YouTube for just this scenario) and went to her table.

It seems that Dolly – of course; what else would she be called? - had acquired a business partner with big ideas for the café, so she had taken the opportunity for a cruise before the expansion programme began. Gerald hoped that Dolly wasn’t included in the expansion plan – that jumper looked as if it was stretched to its limit as it was!

Gerald mentally reviewed his wish list: blonde and busty, tick, tick. Wealthy…well, she has her own business, so tick. He thought he’d better just check availability – was there a Mr Dolly? No, brilliant. Get in there, Gerald, he told himself – schmooze.

So Gerald schmoozed like he’d never schmoozed before.