At that, I knew, he would say there was no way he was ‘giving me space’. If I was going to be this stupid then I didn’t deserve his patience – and I should know one thing: if he left, that was it. Once he was out that door, he would be gone for good. He wasn’t going to be messed around by me.

This declaration would make me panic a bit. It would take every ounce of self-possession I had to say I was sorry to hear that but, nonetheless, I wanted him to leave.

As I walked along Thorpe Road, I felt a great cloud begin to lift. Why hadn’t I thought of this before? Instead of responding, often with panic, to what he said, why hadn’t I thought to make my own decision? I had spent so much time reacting to Matty and what he wanted that I hadn’t stopped to think about what I wanted for myself.

I put my key in my door – my door – and thought, yes, we will have that discussion tonight.

*

Matty was home an hour later. He bounded through the door like a puppy and said, ‘I’ve made a decision!’

I looked at him, the big grin on his face, the sparkle in the dark star of his eyes. Whatever the decision might be, it clearly wasn’t the same as mine.

‘Come on come on, Old Lady …’ He grabbed my arm and pulled me to the sofa. His laptop was on the coffee table. He hadn’t even kicked off his shoes or shaken off his coat.

He had taken to calling me Old Lady, Old Girl – Poor Old Dear. I was only four years older than him but he liked to remind me of it.

He opened the lid of his laptop while shrugging his big grey parka from his shoulders. ‘Get your passport,’ he said. ‘Get mine too, it’s in the drawer with my boxers.’

I hadn’t seen him this animated for a while – suddenly he was full of the enthusiasm he had had in the early days of our relationship.

When I returned from the bedroom, he was scrolling through Google Flights.

‘What are you doing?’ I said, although it was obvious.

He reached up and took the passports from me, then, with the other hand, grabbed me and pulled me down next to him. He put a hand on the back of my head and pulled my face towards his, planting a rough kiss on my mouth and shoving me away. ‘You’ll see.’

He was looking at flights to Venice.

I looked at him and wanted to say, we can’t afford this, or, I’m a teacher, we’ll have to go at Easter or half term, think of how much it will cost, but it was hard to burst his bubble – it was just so nice to see him happy, like the old Matty.