There was only one way that I would find time to do my own research ever again: to register for a second PhD. I considered several options. I could return to the University of Birmingham where I had studied as an undergraduate. If I chose Newcastle, I could be near my parents and ask JM to supervise me. But then I hit on a brilliant idea. The Oxford Internet Institute was sure to welcome me! I popped in to make an enquiry.

There I met an elderly female lecturer overcome by a pile of marking. She was pleased to take a break to chat and offered me a choice of small metal badges. I rejected all the ones that displayed goggly eyes in favour of the last one that simply read “TPR”. “Those are my boyfriend’s initials” I told her, “I will take the badge home to him. I am sure that he will like it”. This was, in fact, completely untrue. TPR was my soon-to-be ex-husband. It was highly unlikely that the gift of a tiny scrap of metal would dissuade him of his determination to divorce me.

On my way out of the building I bumped into the Institute director. AD introduced me to him as “Amanda”. Unsurprisingly the director had no idea of my true identity.

Back in Edinburgh once more I passed two gigantic African women in colourful traditional dress practising their dance steps on Annandale Street. By the time I reached East Claremont Street it was dark and the street lights had failed. I had to feel my way along the Claremont Crescent garden wall and the railings to work out the route home.

When the starry black cat and I eventually reached the front door I rang the doorbell. We both doubted that the husband who no longer wanted us would let us in, but we felt it was worth one final attempt at a reconciliation.