Hardly surprising, then, that at bedtime, I was rarely in the mood for sex. It wasn’t unusual for me to still be wearing my coat as I ironed school shirts and stacked the dishwasher at 10.30 pm - I was so busy I’d forget to take it off on my return. I never liked to cause a scene in front of the children, so would inwardly seethe as I supervised bedtime, cooked and tidied up. Max and I would exchange a few barbed comments and we’d climb glumly into bed, before sleeping back-to-back without touching At bedtime, I was rarely in the mood for sex.