I hope it’s not uncomfortable. Me telling you this. Like it was for me with Fiona. Painful. A knife repeatedly stabbing into my stomach. I’d never want anyone to feel like that. You were the one I loved, remember. That’s why all of this happened.

He was in bed when I entered. His Star Wars duvet wrapped around his leg, like he was spooning Darth Vader. His naked stomach melted towards the mattress. The sixty-watt bulb of the ceiling light blasted out reality in abundance.

‘Can I turn this off?’ I asked, hovering in the doorway.

‘I want to see you.’

‘Well, can’t we put the lamp on?’

‘The bulb’s gone.’

‘Oh. Well, I could take the one out of mine.’

‘I’ve just remembered I got a load of bulbs ages ago that were on offer at Poundstretcher . . . there in that bottom drawer.’ As I went to open it, he said, ‘Actually, no . . . no, don’t do that. Let’s put the lava lamp on. That works.’ He nodded his head towards the sofa. At its side, on the floor, was a lava lamp with the wire wrapped around it.

‘Isn’t it just easier to—’

‘No . . . Let’s use that.’

When I picked it up, my hands became coated in sticky dust. He took it from me, unravelled the wire with great concentration, unplugged the existing lamp and replaced it with the rocket.

‘It takes a bit of time for the blobs to start moving,’ he said, his belly wobbling as he settled himself back on the bed.

When I turned off the main light, the turquoise glow was a stark shock.

He patted the mattress. ‘Are you not going to take that off?’

‘It’s cold.’

‘I’ll warm you up.’

I slipped under the covers, but he pushed me away. ‘You’ll have to climb over . . . This is my side.’

Once I’d reached my designated spot, I winced as the cold wall pressed against my back.

I removed my robe underneath the duvet as if changing clothes on a beach, then slithered further down the bed. He followed me. Faced me. Kissed me. The damp skin of his chest touched mine. Then his stomach. Then his thighs. I could tell it was all going well for him as he pressed himself against me.

‘What’s this doing back on?’ He attempted to unhook my bra once again but was on his own this time. I refused to assist with the embarrassment.