I ran to the door and threw it open. My gut had been right. Ian stood in the communal hallway holding a bulging takeaway bag in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

‘I must get you a doorbell, you know,’ he said, stepping over the threshold and kissing me on the cheek. I was too flustered to be afraid.

‘Didn’t you get my text?’

‘I did,’ he said with a glint in his eye and before I could stop him he’d made his way to the kitchen. ‘Hello,’ he said in an enthusiastic voice that made me cringe. He sounded like he was talking to a child. Mum would hate him, I was sure. She’d see straight through him. It would be exhausting trying to defend him to her later, I could tell.

‘Mum, this is Ian,’ I said, leaning on the door frame for support. Could tonight get any worse? Now my mother and rapist were going to sit across from each other to eat a meal at the strangest dinner party I’d ever been to.

‘Lovely to meet you, Ian. Are you my daughter’s lodger?’ she asked, and I snorted.

Ian frowned at me.

‘No. Boyfriend, I guess you could say.’ My skin prickled.

‘Oh. That’s interesting. I was just telling Eve that I’m getting married, she’ll have to bring you to the wedding.’

Ian began unloading the foil cartons from the bag and I got the plates out. My anger steadily rising as I digested the boyfriend admission.

‘I take it you haven’t already eaten?’ Ian whispered. I shook my head.

A few minutes later we were gathered around the table and tucking into the Chinese takeaway Ian had delivered. The gin bottle was almost empty, but Mother had no problem moving straight onto the wine. I listened to Ian charm her with ease. He seemed to know exactly what to say. She lapped up every word of what he did for a living and how we met.

‘Well, Ian, you sound quite taken with my daughter. I think she would be a catch for anyone. Perhaps with a bit more meat on her bones.’ If Ian was surprised by my mother’s barbed comment, he didn’t show it. I didn’t retaliate, there was no need. Ian came to my rescue like a knight in shining armour.

‘I think she’s beautiful.’ He smiled at me and stroked my arm for show, all for her benefit. I wasn’t sure whether to be sick or grateful.