I married a man in prison for money. Three years later his conviction was overturned — and eight days after he came home he put a black box on the kitchen table and said, “Now it’s my turn.”

That is the only reason my brother has the two qualifications he has. I will say that to anybody and I have said it to four people.

I know exactly what I was told at the time, because I did ask. Once.

I asked the woman on the desk in that hall, in the January of 2019, whether it was still free.

I asked because I had read four lines in the local paper about the trust cutting back and it had frightened me.

And she said it was covered.

That is the exact word she used.

Covered.

I remember it precisely, because I remember the feeling that came after it, which was relief — and because I remember not asking a second question.

I never asked who was covering it.

Not in eleven terms. Not once in two years and nine months. Not at a parents’ evening, not at the Christmas thing, not to one person.