When Daphne arrived home, just half an hour later, you rushed into her arms. She dropped a bag at her feet before enveloping you. ‘Daffy!’ you cried. And then you grabbed her hand and pulled her into the living room before she’d even had the chance to take off her coat. She giggled, allowing herself to be dragged along, and my stomach turned over.

She smiled uncertainly at me over your head. I knew she was worried that I was slipping away from her since I’d found out about Joel, trying to reassure me that he’d got his wires crossed, still maintaining that she felt uncomfortable around him and that he had been trying it on with her.

But I no longer believed her. Joel had sounded too genuine.

I walked into the kitchen, knowing she’d follow. Which she did, slipping off her coat and dumping the carrier bag on the worktop. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold. ‘Hey, you,’ she said, coming over to kiss me. But I moved away before she could. Her shoulders slumped with the rejection. ‘Are you still mad at me?’

‘I don’t know,’ I lied.

‘I don’t understand . . .’ She hung her head, her fringe falling into her eyes. She looked so frail standing there that my instinct was to go over to her and wrap her in my arms. But I couldn’t. Instead I turned my back on her and put the kettle on the hob.

‘What’s in the bag?’ I asked instead.

‘Oh.’ She opened it. ‘Sean gave me this joint of beef.’

‘He’s giving you a lot of things lately. Are you sure he’s allowed?’

‘Mick, the owner, has loads of leftover produce. He doesn’t mind.’

I felt uneasy about it. What kind of farmer just gave away his produce for free? Was it another thing Daphne was lying about?

Later that evening, when you were in bed, we were both sitting on the sofa together, each at either end like we used to do when we first met. Usually we’d be huddled up, a tangle of arms and legs, like a two-headed, eight-limbed creature.

‘I’ve got something for you,’ she said, handing me a small leatherbound book. I took it, reading the title in gold embossed into the leather. Love Poems. ‘Open it,’ she urged.

I did as she said and was surprised to see a pressed red rose between the pages.

‘I love you so much,’ she said. ‘Please forgive me.’

‘So you did lie?’

‘It was stupid. I just wanted to see if you liked him. Or if you liked women. Well, me . . .’

‘Daphne, you have to be honest with me. I can’t carry on being in a relationship with you unless you’re totally truthful.’

‘I am.’ She inched up the sofa towards me. ‘Of course I am.’