I’d spent a fortune on Tom that day, on a whiskey-tasting session for him and his friends in the daytime and a meal for us in Liverpool in the evening. I hadn’t wanted to and I couldn’t really afford it, but I’d done what I thought would please him. It wasn’t enough. Of course it wasn’t enough. And just a few days later the plastic bag had appeared on the landing. “Drop that off at the charity shop for me, will you?” he’d asked. When I’d looked inside, my gifts were there and I’d wanted to cry. I hadn’t touched it and the bag remained there, a symbol of everything that was wrong with us. Now I felt like kicking it out of the way but knew he’d see that as a sign of victory, so I stepped past it and went into the room.

I looked around. Apart from the books on the bookcase there was nothing here that I wanted. I’d come back for them later. Next to the bookcase was a closet for our winter jackets. I hadn’t packed mine as I wouldn’t need them for a few months. And then I realized I’d forgotten to pack something on my list and grimaced. I thought I’d remembered everything. There was a box on the shelf in the closet, squashed behind the spare pillows. I hadn’t seen it for a long time; I’d never felt strong enough. How could I have forgotten it?

Just as I reached for it, I heard Oliver’s car pull up into his driveway next door. His car door slammed and I pushed the box back behind the pillows, so that it was out of sight again. If Oliver saw me go down the drive to my car, he might see me and come out to chat. If he saw my car, full to the brim of my belongings, he’d want to know what I was doing, where I was going. I couldn’t risk that. I’d come back for the box another day.

Downstairs I paced the living room as I waited for Tom to come home. My heart thumped at what lay ahead but I had to do it. Now that I’d found the courage to go, I just wanted to get it over with.

I checked the clock. Where was he? I pulled my phone from my bag. There were no messages. I looked up the live departures page of the railway website; his train had arrived on time. He would be here soon. I tried to do some deep breathing, to count my breaths, but it just didn’t work. My breathing was too shallow; I could hear myself pant.

And then he was here, driving up the road, past my car, and turning into our driveway.