Sometimes when I think about the the fact that one in five women has been the victim of a sexual offence in her adult life, I think about how lucky I am not to be one of them. And then I remember that I am one of them, because about ten years ago, I got flashed. This is how it went. I was living in Sheffield, walking through the underpass to the tram stop, toddler son in tow, when a man called from a few feet behind me. I realised later that he must have been waiting there for some time, standing ever so still until someone – some woman – came into view.