On a balmy summer’s night, the last evening of the term, a group of us went to the pub as usual. When the others had gone, I took the plunge and asked if he’d like to accompany me to a Picasso exhibition at the Tate the following week. He leant over and kissed me lightly on the forehead and said, ‘Love to. I made it a rule never to see a student alone out of class, but now that the term’s finished …’ I reached over and took his hand. It was soft and warm. We interlocked fingers and it felt intimate and sensual. Graham smiled back at me. ‘I’m so glad you feel the same way. I’ve been wanting to ask you out since the classes began.’

We spent the whole summer getting to know each other. As neither of us had much money, Graham suggested that, instead of a holiday away somewhere, we should be tourists in London and treat the city as though we were visitors. We took the tourist bus around the sights, got the boat from Westminster to Greenwich, walked up Pall Mall to Buckingham Palace, saw the latest plays and exhibitions, walked the green areas – St James’s Park, Regent’s Park, Hyde Park, Richmond Park. We researched the restaurant reviews and deals and dined out in those that claimed to offer best value for money. It was a great few months and, when the summer was over, he asked me to live with him. I agreed without hesitation, moved into Graham’s terraced house in Crouch End, and so began the most stable period of my life.

He was the total opposite of Joe, who had been flash with his brand names and designer clothes. Graham was as comfy as an old jumper and, like me, loved to find a bargain in a junk shop or stall in Notting Hill. Our happiest times were spent looking for finds in the various antique and junk shops around the capital, Camden Passage in Islington being our favourite, and we would head home after a morning outing with old books, chipped or cracked Lalique and mismatched art-deco crockery. He was so easy to live with, conscious and considerate, a man who grew his own vegetables on an allotment nearby, a caring man, kind to animals and to our two black cats, Bing and Bong and collie dog called Casper. I liked Graham’s friends and they adopted me as one of their own. They were a bright bunch: some were academics, who were clever and informed and taught me a lot about local politics and causes; others were artists like Graham. They made me think, read books I hadn’t considered, expanded my horizons, and I liked that. I felt I was moving in the right direction again after a period of swimming against the tide.