At my divorce hearing the judge ruled I’d leave with nothing. My husband leaned down and told me to see how long I’d last. Then the courtroom doors went.

I had grades that were all right. That is the whole of it.

I had not won anything. I had no story anybody would put in a newsletter. I was not the first of anything.

I was a girl out of a unit on Carrow Road with four B grades.

And a trust I had never heard of sent me forty thousand dollars a year for a course at Belgrave.

I did ask. Once. One time, in two years.

On the eleventh of February, 2020, I rang the number at the bottom of the letter and a woman answered, and I said I wanted to know where it came from.

And she said that the donor had asked to remain anonymous.

That it was not at all unusual. And then she said: “Was there anything else, Miss Pryce?”

And I said: “No. That’s fine. Thank you.”

And I put the phone down.