I can remember one evening, sitting in my living room, and feeling incredibly lonely. My son, Jack, who’d recently left home to work overseas, had just phoned telling me about all of the amazing things he’d been up to. I’d listened intently, just enjoying the sound of his voice, but when he had to go, as he had plans to meet friends, saying goodbye felt really hard. I missed him so much, and when he hung up, I felt somewhat lost. I was 51, single and living alone in a two bedroom apartment. I’d spent my working career as an author, writing several successful books. I loved my job, had great friends and a good social life. Yet, with
