A few years ago, in between lockdowns, I got asked out by a serving Met Police officer. I hesitated from the outset – after all, this was just a few months after Sarah Everard had been kidnapped, raped and killed by Met officer Wayne Couzens, leaving women like me, in London, feeling shocked, distressed, and distinctly unsafe.

Public trust – specifically, women’s trust – in the police force was at an all-time low. We talked about it among ourselves: went round and round in circles on WhatsApp asking hypothetical questions; trying to determine who would be “safe enough” to call for help if we needed it. With Sarah’s name ringing in our ears, alongside Bibaa Henry, Nicole Smallman and (later) Sabina Nessa and Zara Aleena , all women murdered on streets neighbouring our own – we slowly

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