Now there were three men in my life:

1. My husband, who barely tolerated me.
2. My stunningly handsome, wealthy, on-off lover, who resembled Jonah Hauer-King crossed with a young Hugh Grant.
3. A friendly, tubby Irish lad in his twenties, who was almost certainly still a virgin.

Following a disastrous night with Number 3, I was desperate to reunite with Number 2. This was despite knowing that Number 2’s mental health had worsened in the time that he wasted hanging around his ‘cool’ set with friends with ridiculous names (e.g. ‘Bunny’).

When I found Number 3 in Dumfries and Galloway, I confessed to him my undying love. He responded that he and I had no future due to his insanity.

I replied that his state of mind only made me love him more. I was prepared to give up everything to move to south west Scotland to look after him. I also claimed that my husband would be glad to join us in our future life together. This was a huge lie: my husband would be furious at such a prospect.