I fell for the whole rock-star and forty-year-old mum fairytale hook line and sinker. Beautiful people in love, wonderful! Nothing not to get swept away in about that. I’d seen the film as well. Beautiful people in love, on screen, fantastic! I was 110% invested in the story.

However, after multiple private jets, launch parties, concerts, exotic locations and orgasms, I became increasingly sceptical of the whole premise. How marvellous to jet set around the world with a boy half your age when you’re a stunning middle-aged woman who looks half her age. But what about her daughter left at home? Who’s making her packed lunches, taking her to school, helping her with homework? Who’s doing the cooking, cleaning, ironing? Making the beds?

Solene spent most of the story either pre, during or post orgasmic. Didn’t she ever feel tired? At no point did she turn to Hayes and suggest maybe a quiet night in front of the telly with a cuppa. When she wasn’t in some glamorous hotel bedroom, she was swanning about looking radiant in yet another designer number (must have been the alimony because they didn’t seem to sell that many paintings).

The themes around the impact of social media, and society’s perceptions of older women were thoughtful, but 42 appeared to be the cut off age for any woman to be seen considered attractive. It’s all downhill after that apparently.

At a mind boggling fifty-years-old and reading this, I felt I should check myself into the nearest care home immediately as a bone fide geriatric.