“At 28, I hadn’t yet had the happiest times of my life”

I AM at a dinner party.

Over a very good meringue, we are discussing the business of ageing. All the guests are 40-plus. I think it’s fair to say that collectively, we’re in a fair state of physical preservation. Nevertheless, we are completely unambiguous examples of middle-age.

“I feel the same now as I always did,” someone says. This prompts a group-think; there’s a low, brief hum of consensus and then an eager chorus of “me too” erupts around the table.