I think being starved of intimacy is why I currently have horn levels that seem impossible to control. I realise I only had a baby four months ago, and that my libido probably shouldn’t be this high. But it’s all I can think about. An obsession. It would be the same if I went on a vegan diet to lose weight; I would crave beef burgers and fantasise about dinner at Korean BBQ joints, where I’d get to dribble over the preparation of food as well as the joy of eating it at the end. The ultimate food experience, surely? My husband has put me on a brutal sex diet, and I am gagging for a three-course (at least) romp.

It’s been so long since we did it. Last time was right at the beginning of the pregnancy. As soon as my body started to change, Michael pulled back even more than usual. When this job came in, Lauren and her mother wanted to test menus from around fifteen caterers. I joined them, of course. I ended up trying everything on their behalf, as neither of them seem to eat anything apart from kale and tofu, and maybe granola if they are being paid. I was never exactly a slip of a thing, but two stone later (and no that wasn’t just the baby), I was pleased when they finally decided on a chef.

Michael suggested I employed a ‘food taster’ to do that job in future. To stop ‘this happening again’. By ‘this’ he obviously meant me putting on weight. I didn’t think it was a problem, really. All anyone else said to me when I was pregnant was that I was so lucky to be able to eat what I wanted. That I was eating for two. That I needed the calories.

Everyone except Michael. It gave him even more of a reason not to have sex with me. And then there was the pregnancy itself.

‘The baby, the baby, I don’t want to hurt the baby,’ he would say. I don’t know if that was genuine or not, but even our doctor’s assurance that the baby wouldn’t be damaged by his penis wasn’t enough to help. He just couldn’t do it. I’m not pregnant anymore, but he still acts like my vagina has teeth.

My nipples release some milk, as they seem to every time I think about sex.

‘Risky, where is my pump?’

‘Oh, I washed it for you,’ she says. She’s excellent like that.