Once you’d left, I inspected her clothes, which included a Lanvin sequinned dress, a velvet Chloé jacket and a black silk Dolce & Gabbana skirt. Things I could never afford without robbing a bank and she couldn’t be arsed to pick them up. It’s a different world, isn’t it? One I’d foolishly thought I could be part of.

I pushed back the hangers in irritation, exposing the box. The forbidden is always so tempting. Like Mum’s diaries used to be. Yet now, locked in their case, a ghost beneath me as I slept, her words begging to be read – I couldn’t even contemplate.

I closed the cupboard and returned to the lounge. ‘It’s really kind of you, but I feel a bit strange taking her things. Would you mind if I borrowed an old T-shirt of yours instead?’

Alone, I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on the old faded black T-shirt you’d given me. I lifted the bottom half against my face and sniffed. Disappointingly, it was freshly washed. But I thought of all the times it would have been next to your skin, and now it was next to mine. As it often still is. I’m wearing it right now, as it happens.

I used the time alone in there to properly take in the room. Switched one of the trendy copper side lamps on and off and opened the copy of Great Expectations where your bookmark was inserted. Not far in.

‘Do you know what I touch here?’ she said, laying her hands, one upon the other, on her left side.

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ (It made me think of the young man.)

‘What do I touch?’

‘Your heart.’

‘Broken!’

I closed the book and went to wash myself.

Now accustomed to the poshness of your flat, I was unsurprised by the fancy mosaic-tiled bathroom and huge sink which sat like a bowl, in a way I’d never seen before, on top of a wooden cupboard. I immediately removed lids from your potions, sniffing them one by one like a sommelier. Inspected your heavy silver razor. Ran my nail across the teeth of your comb. But once I’d stared into the mirrored wall, I was distracted by the speckles of blood on my face, of which I’d been unaware. I blinked. To make the image disappear. Then scrubbed away the traces, so the next time I dared look, my face shone with rawness as I patted myself dry with your towel, still damp and full of you.

When I returned to the lounge, you were sat on the sofa. Loose-limbed, relaxed. Two mugs of tea rested on a magazine to protect the floor.

‘Better?’

I nodded.

‘Come and sit down.’

I did as I was told. Kept a polite distance. Wanting to be closer.

‘Sorry – it’s probably cold now.’