P O’Sullivan, via e-mail...

“With a combination of a flattering profile picture and some outright lies, I managed to pull a girl called Becki on MySingleFriend.com. Meeting up in a rain-soaked London, I splashed the cash: drinks on the romantic South Bank, followed by dinner on The Strand.

Leaving the restaurant at 10pm, I thought it was about time to seal the deal. And made a lunge. Startled, she pulled back, and politely said sorry, but no. Stepping off the kerb apologetically, she was then hit by a number 87 bus. It was awful. I’d only just met her, and when the ambulance arrived I realised I didn’t even know her surname.

I then spent the loneliest night of my life sat next to her bed in St Thomas’ hospital. Chivalry, I suppose. Of a sort.”