‘Have you lost your whole assertiveness, or have you forgotten how to stand up for yourself without packing a good job like that in?’ she asks me in despair. ‘This reminds me of the time you were suspended by the nuns in second year of grammar school for wearing those silly-looking Doctor Marten boots to school instead of the black patent slip-ons I bought you that cost me the price of a week’s groceries. I just don’t understand how you achieve so much, Charlotte, and then just throw it all away in a whim. Not everything in life is disposable, when will you realize that? Why can’t you just be more like—’

My ears close over at this point and I actually start to hum to myself to block out the noise.

Why can’t you just be more like Emily, is what she’s going to say but I will let her rant and rave until she gets tired of her own voice or realizes she’s only repeating herself.

I’ve disappointed her, I’ve let her down again, just when I’d earned so many brownie points by becoming a teacher in the first place, marrying not only a doctor but the doctor who is credited for making such a difference to Matthew’s mental stability and overall recovery, then bagging a job in a school so far removed from my old life that we didn’t even know it existed until I miraculously landed the job.

I pinch my eyes as old familiar feelings of failure creep over me, reminding me how I’ve always been perceived as the rebel child, always the one who just couldn’t quite keep up with the rest or just keep in line for that matter.

‘I’m sorry, Mam, but I couldn’t stay in a job I hate just to please everyone else,’ I say to her when I eventually get a break in the conversation. ‘Jack is totally behind me on this so I hope you and Dad will be too. It’s not as simple as it sounds. The place was horrendous, please believe me. I didn’t just do this on a whim or to disappoint anyone.’

She goes off again until I hear my father interrupting. Once again it brings me back to my teenage years when I was always the one who caused rows between them, be it because of my grades at school, which my teachers often described as ‘inconsistent’, or my choice of company from friends to boyfriends, or my unique ability to make an absolute mess of everything I turned my hand to, from part-time jobs to whimsical hobbies that got me nowhere.