‘Don’t I have my hands full?’ he says, stroking my hair, which makes me feel young and vulnerable, and cared for. I don’t remember anyone ever stroking my hair.

‘David, do you think this is a good idea? Do you think we are a good idea?’

‘Not sure I’m up to much thinking right now.’ He pulls me to him, wraps both his arms around me and starts to sway. Herbie and Marmie move closer to me, as if guarding me.

‘What do you think Sister Anne would say if she saw us now?’ I whisper.

‘I think she’d be mightily jealous! That nun has a little spark for me.’

I wonder about that. Sister Anne seemed so bullshit-proof. I’m pretty sure she’d be appalled if she found out about this.

He places his hand on my inner thigh. Herbie starts to growl, intensifying the drama of the moment, which both scares me and turns me on.

‘Sure you’re ok with this?’ David says, not waiting for an answer. He starts to pull the zipper on my jeans, his fingers feeling for me. The usual battle plays out for a moment: you know where this will lead, pull it back, take it slow, make it real, take it slow… before I am expertly steered into territory where there is no more thought.

What follows is anything but slow. He handles me with an urgency that borders on aggression. He stands at some point and shoos the animals back into the hall, closes the kitchen door and lifts me on to the countertop, then the floor. He turns me over, as if he’s determined to mark every part of me. What fantasy is this? I feel myself fly away, watching from a distance. There is silent resistance in my body, a stiffness that he doesn’t pay heed to, that I don’t pay heed to. I wonder was that some kind of punishment for all the questions.

He lifts me then, like a child, and carries me into the bedroom, lays me gently on the bed, kisses me all over. Throughout it all I say nothing, my mind shocked into silence for a brief interlude. He falls asleep easily, while I lie motionless beside him, the animals scratching the door outside. I hear an indistinct susurration, a dangerous beckoning. Place a pillow over my head and roll away from him, curl up at the farthest edge of the bed.

‘Are you ok?’ he whispers, and I wish he wouldn’t. He sidles over to my side of the bed, reaches out for me.

‘Hmmm-mmm.’ I turn my back.

He snakes an arm over my ribs. Boa constrictor. I lift it off me.

‘Too heavy.’

‘Sorry. Hey, I’m starving. I’ll go get us something, I guess your cupboards are bare, as usual?’

I nod, desperate to get him out of my space. He gets up, dresses fast, kisses me on my cheek, tidies my hair behind my ear, blows into it.

‘Don’t go anywhere. Stay right where you are. I’ll get us a nice veggie pizza.’ He sounds as if he’s speaking to a child, or an invalid. ‘You ok?’ My head moves up and down, yes sir, yes sir, a submissive. He kisses me gently on my forehead and leaves.