‘Show me,’ I demanded, nodding towards his laptop.

‘Fine.’ He opened it up and I recoiled as the screen came to life with graphic images of blood and gore against a soundtrack of gunshots and explosions. ‘It’s a video game,’ he said as if I was stupid. ‘It’s called The Tournament.’

I didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. What was worse—sex or violence?

‘You know you’re not allowed to play games on school nights.’

Since the kids were young, Adrian and I had always had strict screen rules—we limited TV on weeknights, and gaming and movies were only allowed on weekends—and our draconian stance had paid off. Or so I’d thought.

Saxon opened his mouth to argue, but I rode right over the top of him.

‘You told me you were doing your homework. And if playing that awful game makes you use such foul language and get so pent up, then I don’t think you should be playing it at all. From now on, I want you to do all your computer work at the kitchen table. No more computers or phones in your bedroom.’

‘Mum, I’m sorry about swearing but can you just calm down and listen to me for a moment.’ He sighed and ran a hand through black curls that were almost identical to his father’s. ‘This is for a school assignment.’

I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘Are you having me on? I was a kid once too, you know.’ Although things were a lot simpler back then—our parents never had to worry about online games, social media and too much screen time.

‘No. I promise,’ he pleaded. ‘It’s part of my media class. We’re studying computer games—we have to choose a game and analyse it.’

‘Seriously?’ I put my hands on my hips. ‘What exactly do you have to analyse?’

‘Plot, graphics, target audience and key-binds, that kind of stuff.’

I had no idea what he was talking about but I guess I didn’t have any reason not to believe him. Saxon had never been able to lie well, whereas Payton had been an expert almost as soon as she could talk—but I couldn’t believe the school was encouraging kids to play video games. What happened to analysing adverts and newspaper articles?

‘Okay, but don’t let it get you so worked up. No game or homework requires swearing.’

‘Sorry, Mum.’

‘No, I’m sorry,’ I said, giving him a hug. ‘Sorry for doubting you. It’s just … things are hard at the moment. I …’ My mouth went dry and I couldn’t get the rest of my sentence out.