'I don't think a day goes by when I don't think about him in some way or other,' she said sadly, twisting her glass and gazing at the tiny bubbles. 'It's usually triggered by a piece of music or a film or some guy in the street who vaguely walks like him. Jack's basically blighted my life. I wish I could hate him but I don't. I'm probably still in love with him. But I'm only in love with a memory. I'm not in love with the Jack who just disappeared off the face of the earth. He can go to hell, as far as I'm concerned.'