At the school gate. At my sister's. To a woman at the garden centre in the June who I had never met before and who asked what he did.
And every single time I said it, I said it in a particular way, and I know exactly what that way was, because I have had a year and a woman called Halla on Mondays to work it out.
He's never here, he's at the hospital, honestly, he does too much.
It is a complaint with a flag in it.
I spent eleven months being the exhausted wife of a man who saves lives, and I was good at it, and people were lovely to me about it.
And the actual man was in a polo shirt two floors up with a tea trolley, and if I had found out in the March I would have had to be the wife of something else entirely.
