I closed the bathroom door behind me gently and turned the water on to run hot while I peed. I got into the shower and stood letting the water run over my head. As I rinsed the shampoo out I thought, the extractor fan has probably woken Matty up. I stepped carefully out of the bath but pulled the plastic curtain back into position so that the water still thundered against it. I turned the handle on the door and opened it a crack, so that I could see into the bedroom. The curtains were still closed but in the dim light I could see that Matty was up and sitting on my side of the bed, turned away from my direction and slightly hunched.

My phone was still plugged in – I could see where the charging cable led down from the bedside table and into the plug socket on the wall – but from the way Matty was bent and the position of the lead, I could guess that my phone was in his hand.

I pulled back from the door and returned to the shower. I did not want him to catch me catching him.

I took my time finishing my shower. I brushed my teeth very thoroughly and then plucked my eyebrows. When I stepped out and opened the door to the bedroom, the curtains were open and it was full of daylight, the duvet in a mountainous heap in the middle of the bed. Matty wasn’t there. My phone was back on the bedside table, at the exact angle where I had left it. I stood looking at it as I scrubbed at my scalp with a small towel. I knew what Rosaria would say – that it wasn’t on, him looking, that it was behaviour I should challenge. I imagined myself saying, in a cheery tone, ‘What were you doing with my phone?’ and tried to imagine his response. I was admiring your screen saver? I wanted to feel how much it weighed? I knew that he would answer with a question of his own. ‘You were spying on me?’ Or, perhaps, ‘So I was looking at your phone. You have a problem with that?’

I carried on scrubbing hard at my scalp with my towel, much harder than I needed to. It would tangle my hair. I would have to tug hard with the wide-tooth comb later, to detangle it. Whatever response Matthew gave to my question would be an offended one. It would mean an argument. Did I want that when, actually, it didn’t really matter whether he looked at my phone or not?