James wishes women would stop smiling at him on the street. ‘What is the point of going out and smiling at me or even glancing in my direction if it just means little to you?’ He raises his voice in frustration. ‘Just stop. If it doesn’t mean anything to you then please, stop it. It means everything to me.’

It is a scorching Wednesday in July and as the rest of the country gathers in pubs and parks to watch England’s first World Cup semi-final in 28 years, 19-year-old James sits alone in his bedroom in his mother’s house in Wigan, reflecting on his all-consuming obsession with sex. ‘Every decision I’ve made about clothing is for the purpose of probably having sex, or probably getting some attention whatsoever… I feel lust towards nearly every woman I see. I don’t actually have any standards. I like women, practically all women. They just don’t seem to like me.’

James plans to study pharmacology at university but doubts he will ever have a successful career. Speaking over the telephone using a pseudonym, he describes how repeated rejections from women have led him to extreme self-loathing. Besides going to college – where he studies biology, chemistry, and psychology – and his shifts as a support worker caring for people with disabilities, he rarely leaves his bedroom.