My best friend and my sister, noses pressed against the window, as I heard my results; some moments you remember forever because you know you’ve earned them. I was off to university. The last summer of the Twentieth Century sped past: lazy mornings watching T4, stalking Ben Shephard; wine-soaked candlelit evenings with my oldest friend and his boyfriend; spontaneous daytrips in his Mini watching swaying cornfields under blue skies. Months later I was looking out from my St Andrews’ bedroom window as my mother told me she was divorced. They had been divorcing all my life. Suddenly anything seemed possible.
