I used to live with a young man in London, when I was 19 or so. He would hide Milky Bars in the pocket of my coat so that I would find them at 1 in the morning, when I was walking home from work on the cobblestones, hands deep in my pockets trying to warm them. One night, I found him fast asleep in the dark corner of our bed, with this red - this electric light - peaking out from under my pillow. He'd seen me admiring it at Waterstones the week before and never said a word. He didn't like a song and dance, he was reserved - very English. But his gestures were magnificent.