What was my fantasy of John? Meeting him, pursuing our relationship – it all seemed preordained. I loved John and, most of the time, early on, felt that he loved me too. But the beginning of our relationship also felt like a negotiation, like a setting-out of terms, which, being young and in awe, I had eagerly agreed to. I did not yet know that their flouting was something that I could – and would – be pulled up on.

‘I never want to be one of those couples,’ he had said, ‘arguing on the corner.’ Meaning: Never dispute me in public.

‘I need my space, a lot of alone time.’ My needs will supersede yours.

I met his friends. I met Jude, his older sister. We went to dinner, to events: gallery openings, screenings, book launches. The adult life I had envisioned began to take shape, all at once. Being recognised as part of a couple thrilled me; I felt legitimised. John had a life, a full life. He had immediate and extended family, people he had known since childhood, school, university. I was surprised to discover that he found it all quite stifling. My own upbringing had been rootless, what with our various moves and my mother’s long and definitive estrangement from her relatives. I suppose you could say that I was unencumbered – I think that might have been John’s word.