One of the things people asked me after I broke up with my ex was ‘when are you going to have your rebound fling?’

At first I had no interest, being too busy deluding myself that he would miss me so much that he’d beg me to come back. But it soon dawned on me that not only was that not going to happen, but perhaps I didn’t want to go back. And I don’t believe in the rebound fling. Especially as the definition made it sound so utterly unattractive.

In December last year I found myself on my own after a nine year relationship. My thirty-fourth birthday was approaching and the break-up precipitated a move back to London from Singapore. When I landed in Heathrow, to the welcome of the British winter it hit me; I was suddenly single.