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.

And an eighteen-year-old girl in a bedsit on Carrow Road had a telephone in her hand on the eleventh of February, 2020.

With a woman on the other end of it who would have had to answer a second question.

And said: No. That’s fine. Thank you.

Both of us were waiting for the same thing.

For the moment when the other one could not say no.

He is sixty-nine years old and he had a firm, and a schedule, and four hundred and eleven pages, and sixteen years.

I was eighteen and I had a telephone and ninety seconds.
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But it was the same thing.

And I had it first.