In 1995 I was born in the dining room of our family home in Spring Street. My sister Georgia, six at the time, had gone to school that morning only to be picked up a few hours later by my mum’s friend, whose arms were laden with saucepans to heat water for the birth pool.

After I was born, the story goes that Georgia started calling me Maeve and so my parents accepted that to be my name. To be fair, it was an option picked by mum and dad already, but it was Georgia who got it to stick.