‘Look, I’m sorry. I was waiting, I just got impatient, that’s all, I was looking forward to going to the shops with you. Have you eaten anything? I’ll make a sandwich.’ My voice became excessively bright and cheery. ‘You go and have your shower, you must be starving. We’ve got some ham and cheese, I can do a toastie if you like.’

Normally, an apology would mollify him, for the time being at least, but the sparkle in my voice must have struck him as insincere. He took a step towards the bathroom, then stopped and said quietly, his back to me, ‘Lisa, don’t patronise me, I can’t take much more of this. I don’t have time for your self-sabotaging games.’

For a moment I felt the usual panic, the knee-jerk desire to make all well, and then – completely unexpectedly – a well of rage rose up in me and I couldn’t help spitting one of his phrases – it flowed out of me smooth and clean: ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

He turned then and I saw from the look on his face that I had made a great mistake. The berating, the arguing, the telling me how wrong I was – it would not stop now until I was on the floor.

*

We got to bed at 3 a.m. that night. I only slept for a couple of hours. I got up for a bit in the middle of the night and tried to do some marking at the kitchen table but the words of my students swam before my eyes.

All day Sunday, it continued. We followed each other from room to room, like household cats that are never allowed outdoors, taking it in turns to ambush each other. At one point, he told me that he was so desperate my behaviour was beginning to affect his work. A friend had said to him only recently that he was looking thin and drawn; people at work kept asking him if he was okay.

‘What friend?’ I couldn’t help falling for it.

‘A friend,’ he replied. ‘Aren’t I allowed to have friends?’

Why could I not stop myself? ‘A male friend or a female friend?’

‘Oh, here we go …’

‘If you didn’t want me to ask then why did you just say a friend?’

‘Because she is a friend, what else am I supposed to call her?’

‘Which friend?’

‘You don’t know her. I do have friends you don’t know, you know. You don’t own me.’

‘What’s her name?’

‘None of your business, jeez, do I have to name all my friends to you now, what, bring their CVs home?’

‘How long have you known this friend? Is she a new friend or an old friend?’