‘When will we see your face again?’ asked David.

‘I have to go back to the doctor’s office in a few days and have this stuff taken out of my nose. And the nose cast can come off in two weeks. But I’ll still be a bruised for a while. I miss being able to sniff.’

Mátilda climbed up onto the bed and with the lightest touch kissed the tip of my nose. ‘Bésalo mejor,’ she said. Kiss it better.

Paco took a different approach.

‘Hey, Rhiannon, nice face. Imma have to stop drinking soon cos I sure as shit don’t wanna see two of that!’

‘Hey, Rhiannon, you fall out the ugly tree again this morning?’

‘Hey, Rhiannon, I’ve eaten taco meat that looked better than you.’

But I had to Bruce Lee this shit and not have an emotional reaction to every little thing. I had to breathe and allow shit to pass me by because my anger was his fuel and I had to starve that fire.

I tried to take my mother’s approach – Go through the motions. Pretend she’s not there. Ignore, ignore, ignore. Maybe she will grow out of it soon.

But he didn’t.

It got to the point where I thought my face would look like that forever – a mangled, swollen, purple mess of tiny eyes, enormous nose and incurable agony. But as long as I stayed away from Paco, I knew I could ride the storm. Aside from having to endure the aftercare trips to the doctor’s office to remove the packing and have my stitches taken out, I could live my life, grow my flowers, chow ibuprofen and give my body all the right foods it needed to heal.

In short: I started looking after myself. I started looking after my mind too. Tenoch got me into meditation – ten minutes every morning.

‘I’ve done this every day for forty years,’ he told me as we sat cross-legged and facing each other on the lawn one morning, early, as the sun was rising. ‘To have a healthy body, you must also have a healthy, calm mind that will help you make the right decisions.’

He bored the arse off me going on about the importance of the breaths and mindfulness but some things still got through.

‘The more you do it, over weeks, months, years, the more space you will create in your mind.’

‘What do you mean, space?’

‘Space between thought and action.’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I do need that. I’ve been trying to do that when Paco pisses me off.’

‘Is it working?’

‘Sometimes. It’s getting better. But I don’t think it’s going to work for me, Tenoch.’

‘Try it.’

‘You think a few minutes of meditation and a bit of camomile tea is going to make me stop wanting to punch cunts in the face?’