By the time Jack’s suitcases arrived the cracks were already wide, but I never completely fell apart. My love for my children was the glue that held me together. And hope. Hope for a future with them in it. As that future slipped away, all sense and reason fell through the cracks and I adopted an ‘if you can’t beat them, join them’ mentality. Fight fire with fire. I shudder as I realise that I almost became the feckless piece of shit that he is.

But I didn’t. No matter how angry I was, how much hate-filled revenge I planned, and carried out, I always had remorse. I hid in the in-between from myself, because that wasn’t me. Isn’t me. I do deserve to have my children back. Even though I’m damaged, I deserve a second chance. And I’ll prove it.

I carefully place the cake I have baked in the middle of the table. Paula and Patti arrive, and I hug them both. Paula’s been my rock, my sounding board. She’s so happy with Patti and a million miles away from the insecure teenager she was.

Katy arrives with Jamie and he runs off to play in the garden. Lee’s out there supervising; he’s filled in the hole and grassed it over. I feel a bit funny every time he looks at me and, when the kids aren’t looking, I kiss him. And he kisses me back. He’s only stayed over once, when Charlie and Laura went to stay with Jack and Emma for the night. He brought a plant with him and put it on my kitchen windowsill. They came back telling me that ‘Daddy’s house is nice but he’s going away on business and Aunty Emma will be there alone for a while so we can’t go again until he comes back’.

I know what ‘going away on business’ is and I momentarily felt sorry for Emma; I know she’ll be smiling bravely and ironing his collars and checking his phone. But I feel nothing for Jack. No hate. Certainly no love. Just a welcome distance.

It turns out Lee is excellent at decorating and, as I watched his long strokes cover the scrapes from the flying tiara and the lipstick on my bedroom wall, I felt the sadness drain from me, replaced with something soft and mellow.

He stayed that night, but told me that he wouldn’t stay while the children were here. Not at first. He didn’t want them to be confused. I appreciated that more than anything, because it meant that he was thinking about all of us and not just himself.