My parents threw me out at sixteen after I lost my leg. Nineteen years later they wanted a million dollars for my sister — to hide why a 24 -year-old woman may never walk again.

That last clause is the piece of work in all of this that I admire most, in the way you admire a good lock.

Because it explains, in six words, why nobody has ever seen me at anything. Why there is no photograph. Why a donor who asked would be told, gently, that she does not do events.

They did not have to lie about me once.

They just had to say I was private, which is true, and which I have been saying about myself for nineteen years.

And I put in a paragraph about how much I had raised for other people, which is also true, and which came from three real grants the foundation made in 2015 to three real people, whose photographs are on that website and who are perfectly well and who I have since spoken to.