One of my favourite words in the English dictionary is ‘passion’. There’s the passion you show your partner between the sheets when you just want to grab them and bite a chunk out of them; an intense appreciation for the arts or music and the passion of a couple arguing in the middle of the street (or wherever they happened to be when the first voice was raised). Without passion, the world would be a very boring place and no one would become excited about anything.

I consider myself to be a passionate girl in the most obvious sense of the word. None of my clients or past boyfriends could ever dub me an Ice Maiden. Good God, no! I put as much energy into my emotions as I do every aspect of my life. However, I’m not particularly confrontational so my newest client, Jon took me by surprise. He was a referral from a fellow London escort who was too poorly to make her date. She told me that Jon was a bit of a character but she thought I would be fine. “If you get stuck,” she said hoarsely, “text me.”

So I entered into our arrangement with my eyes wide open. Dressed for the summery weather and with a beaming smile, we met on the South Bank, outside Temple tube station. The first thing that riled me was that he looked me up and down before shaking my hand. And even though, for the most part, he as a gentleman, he kept trying to wind me up – bordering on rudeness. As the sun went behind a cloud and the wind picked up, my mood became equally as overcast. Jon started to irritate me. We walked and talked from Park Lane to Piccadilly, without holding hands and at least three feet apart. Now, being the professional I am and bearing in mind I’ve heard worse over the years, I started to reply through gritted teeth. I so wanted to be nice to him but I could have cheerfully strangled him. We ate a meal at The Cinnamon Club where the conversation was littered with insults. He criticised the food, the service, my table manners and those of all around him. Eventually I could take no more. With a slam of my napkin and a scrape of my chair, I turned on my heel and fled.

I was absolutely raging as I arrived home. My neighbours must have wondered what all the commotion was about as I slammed my front door shut and kicked a chair across the room. How dare he! And I was so annoyed with my colleague for giving me such a vile client. I text her and asked why she thought I would enjoy a date like that. I got no reply but Jon text me the next day and explained that he arranged dates with our 24 hour escort agency to have a really good fight with the lady. He was aroused by a fiery woman and I had left him speechless. Although when I didn’t come back he had worried that I’d been briefed before agreeing to stand in. Well, that explained it and after that I stopped giving him a hard time. So, slipping into character, I made my voice as petulant as I could and asked what the hell he thought he was playing at being extremely rude to me and his voice immediately animated. Before I knew it he was yelling all sorts of obscenities and asking if I spoke to all my boyfriends that way? It was rather surreal but oddly satisfying.

Now Jon wants to book my company at least once a fortnight so we can really scream at each other – in a completely controlled environment, of course. He says he enjoys the company of the other escorts at the agency but that I really get into the spirit of things. I told him he should see me with PMT!