An exclusive extract from the writer’s new memoir
• ‘My body is broken, but I’m not going to give up’: read an interview here

On Boxing Day, in Rome, after taking a walk to the Piazza del Popolo, followed by a stroll through the Villa Borghese, then back to the apartment, I had a fall.

Sitting at a table in Isabella’s living room with my iPad in front of me, I had just seen Mo Salah score against Aston Villa. I was sipping a beer when I began to feel dizzy. I leant forward and put my head between my legs; I woke up a few minutes later in a pool of blood, my neck in a grotesquely twisted position, Isabella on her knees beside me.