My eyes are probably as wide as saucers as that inner rage sparks back up. ‘‘I told you to stop doing that. One, I can dress myself—I manage daily with quite a level of success and as you check me out when you think I am not looking, it’s obviously a skill. Secondly, I assume the underwear is for your benefit and I wasn’t aware I was now one of your fuck buddies whenever you feel like it. Possessions, I assumed, had some say over when, where and how, if I ever let you touch me again. And thirdly, oh yes I have a third … Stop telling me how...