I can’t lie here for much longer, I’m seizing up. Mentally and physically. I switch off the television and then sit in some sort of suspended animation. The bizarre thing is, I don’t know how to entertain myself anymore. It’s exactly one day since Jake announced he was leaving and I’m already dreading spending time alone. I used to look forward to having a day to myself without Jake under my feet. I’d fill it with shopping and girl things. Now I’m looking at the prospect of endless days to myself, I’ve no idea how I’ll fill them. I’m sure it’s worse because I’m trapped here today, unable to go out and with no light. It’s so bad I even think about doing some work, but dismiss it as the first sign of madness. There’s only one thing I can think of that I want to do and that’s eat. The wind is howling round the house making ghastly and ghostly noises. Thunking sounds are coming from the loft—when I can’t imagine what there is up there to thunk—and the letterbox has taken to knocking all by itself. There’s only one thing for it.

Balancing on a chair, waving a hairdryer at a light socket isn’t my first choice of a fun way to spend half an hour, but needs must. I feel very precariously placed and my arms are aching already, and I remind myself to do some more work on my biceps when I next see fit to grace the gym. I’ve set up some candles downstairs, but whilst candlelight is great for creating atmosphere and mood, it isn’t actually much use for providing essential lighting. We just get so used to the convenience of modern living—I’m the type of person who reaches straight for the light switch to search for candles on the rare occasion when we have a power cut.