There wasn’t much here when Greg and I scrimped and saved to buy our first two-bedroomed terraced home; now, however, Milton Keynes is the fastest-growing city in the country. Every week, a new housing estate appears out of nowhere. And I never questioned whether I wanted to live here or not. Rather like I never questioned whether I should say yes to Greg. Why did I do that? Why didn’t I think about where I would like to spend my days, whether this place would suit me rather than another. I just accepted that this is where we would be. I’ve never considered whether I’m more suited to village or town living, or whether I’d like a house near the beach. We moved here and we stayed here. Probably because Greg likes it.

I’d love to be one of those people who has a dream. One of our neighbours yearns to move to France, run an enormous farm in the middle of nowhere and raise whatever it is they raise on French farms – truffle hunting pigs, peut-être? Another friend has the urge to retire young and move to Suffolk, to finish her days with the tang of salty air in her lungs, days of long walks on the beach and traditional fish and chips for tea. Me? I don’t even know what my dream might be.

Greg and I did progress to a small three-bedroom detached place in the intervening years, but that wasn’t out of a great desire to better ourselves – we just ran out of space for the kids and were forced to upscale. Even so, we’ve been in the same house for over fifteen years.

Surprisingly, my husband’s car is in the drive. Maybe the fishing lost its thrall in the wee small hours – but I doubt it. And, I feel terrible even saying this, but I have a real heartsink moment when my key goes into the lock. I know exactly the words that Greg will say to me.

‘Cup of tea, love?’ His voice comes from the kitchen.

I was right.

It’s not a bad thing to be greeted like that, is it? But would it hurt, for once, for Greg to cast aside his teaspoon and, with unbridled passion, declare, ‘God, I’ve missed you!’

Throwing down my battered overnight bag, I head towards him. I know too that nothing will be said about my outburst last night. We never resolve our arguments – we just pretend that they never happened. Are there couples who talk openly and freely on a regular basis to resolve their petty differences and keep their relationship fresh? Or are the majority like us, simmering along in unspoken resentment until the petty difference reaches crisis point and we can’t discuss anything without it turning into an argument?