I’d planned to go to the nudist beach with my (ex) husband today, but the weather has turned cooler and cloudier and I didn’t fancy being naked and having an awkward conversation with him. So I suggested Newbury instead.

When I got to his house, he was in a real moaning mood (understandably for sure): the local busybody had been robbed telling him what he could and could not do with his flat. The husband also learnt that his was a smaller flat, but charged an extra £75 a month – presumably for the outside space that Mr Busybody was telling him that he shouldn’t be using.

I felt a certain dread that he was in a bad space and that this wasn’t going to be a nice and relaxed day out.

The drive was about an hour we chatted on and off along the way. I’d forgotten that I’d also agreed to go to his for me tea this evening. I can be such a goldfish sometimes; I bet it was because the last time we were together I was so anxious – memories written while anxious are like words written in running water. Gone that very instant.

I felt quite some anxiety as we drove, my head began to ache – funny that the first threat of migraine that I’ve had in over a week is while in the presence of my hubby. Its the anxiety I so often feel in his presence – an anxiety that is at once a residue of past anxieties and real anxiety around the difficult conversations that we still need to face. Whilst there may be some causal link, to be fair if had a late and disturbed night which is also a major migraine trigger.

It was an easy drive, despite the heavier than usual traffic.

When we got there, straight away we went for a bite to eat from a little café near the canal. Expensive, but very tasty. I had a smoked salmon and cream cheese sandwich. I took pain relief to head of the headache before it became a real problem.

Newbury is a pleasant market town, which seems to only work until 1pm and then, one by one, stalls and boutique shops close. There are only a few charity shops, no tattooists or piercing parlours that I could see in the centre. It felt like an old world town for old people.

We grabbed a coffee at Costa – the exact place we had over last time we were sent home because of torrential rain. Costa is his favourite chain. I prefer it’s decaffe, but it’s caffeinated coffee is only a little less bitter than other chains.

All the time conversation remained easy and we avoided anything controversial.

My anxiety slowly subsided – if only I wasn’t quite so tired from last night, this would have been so much nicer!

He even cooked a spag bol for tea. He’s not cooked for me for years! He’s not lost it – he’s always been a talented cook.

He watched EastEnders (boring), then I put a film on.

Basically, this shy guy gets manipulated by this dominant bully (not on a sexy way), but then he gets out-psycho’d by his victim – then it turns out to be a sting all along!

The film was frustratingly slow with every actor giving long pauses before speaking – as though waiting for a prompter to remind them of the line, but with the twist was unexpected and easy to miss.

I felt awkward on the sofa: could I lie on him? Would that send a confusing message? I would dearly like to really melt into him and he held. Long ago, I would lie on him and feel safe. I haven’t done that for many years and have missed it all the while.

My movements were tentative, not wanting to muddy the water – it had been a lovely day and a restful evening. Maybe after more such times we can both really start to relax around each other.

However, I was glad to get back to peace and safety of the house and cuddles with the dog before bed…

…I have a long drive to Colchester in the morning to see Tacitus’ exhibition on the Anglo-Saxons.