But her Gabriella was a beauty, she would give her that. She was just like Cynthia at the same age – all tits, legs and slim waist, and she held herself and walked well. That was important to a woman, walking well. Her old nanny used to say ‘Walk into a room like you own it and the chances are one day you will.’ Pity Mary had never listened to her own mother – how different things might have turned out. Imagine still living in the first house the council gave you! That was her mum and dad all over; no fucking ambition, no desire for something better. Just grateful for being alive. How she would love to knock on that door, and give them the fright of their lives. She knew it would be her mother who put the kibosh on her daughter seeing her. Her mother would not want to lose the girl now she had her.

In truth, Cynthia was amazed at how much the refusal had hurt her. Why should she care about it so much? Her pride had definitely been hurt. And that social worker had irritated her with her fake sympathy and platitudes. Silly bitch – like she gave a flying fuck what she thought.

Still, she had made the woman promise to keep her up-to-date on her daughter’s life, and she had agreed to that. Fucking cheek! This was her child, she had given birth to her, not that fucking old bitch of a mother of hers, or that dried-up stick of a social worker. No, it had been her, Cynthia Tailor that was, who had endured nine months of hell and eighteen long, hard hours of labour. She bet her mother had had a field day, advising her granddaughter to keep away from her own flesh and blood.

Well, fuck them. This was all she had really wanted – a quick peek, just to see what the girl had turned out like. And wouldn’t you know, she was exactly as she had expected. A foolish girl who had no desire to make anything of herself. She would live the life of her nana, without anything of real value, and without any idea of the world that was going on outside the confines of this council estate.

Cynthia lit a cigarette and pulled on it deeply; she allowed herself three a day, otherwise all the hours she spent in the gym keeping in shape were pointless. She had a better body now than before she had had her kids. But that was the beauty of living alone, you could do those kind of things; go to the gym, eat well, take yourself off to a health spa for long weekends. Children stopped that, like they stopped anything good in your life.