TPR bought me a midnight blue Porsche, then instructed me to drive him from the south west of England to Lowestoft. He announced that this would be our final trip before he divorced me.

It was an emotionally painful journey. The car was also very difficult to handle, mainly because its only brake was the type found on a primitive of child’s scooter. Added to this, we had no map, and no money for the 5.9p toll road that ran alongside the M25.

When we stopped for directions, TPR chatted up a bunch of walkers from Wales instead of paying attention to the instructions of the two kind man who were trying to help us. By this point of the journey I couldn’t wait to be rid of him.