I’ve never thought I am immortal, so I have always accepted mortality as a given. Who would want to be immortal anyway? Imagine your friends and loved ones all growing old and dying, while you still lived on. Imagine the world changing to such an extent that you could no longer cope with what it required. No, we live our one life, then our lives end and we leave room for others.

I was brought up by atheists and largely avoided churchgoing and religious dogma, even though I went to church schools. Heaven and hell were not for me, though on my first day at primary school I was told I would go to hell because I hadn’t been baptised. We were a tiny family – me, my parents, and one childless aunt. This was my adoptive family. The first time I saw a blood relative was when my daughter was born when I was 39. Thirty years later, she has decided that she will not have children, because of the state of the world and the environment. So, I struggle to even recognise that there is a kind of immortality, in the memory of others, or through our genes. When I’m gone, I’m gone.