‘Yes, I suppose you’re right,’ conceded Patricia. ‘I am very busy these days. I honestly don’t know what would happen to the W.I. if they didn’t have me sorting everything out.’

Finally.

‘But if you so much as get an inkling that Lucy is doing drugs, promise me, you’ll call me.’

‘We will, Mum,’ replied Claire, relieved. Another battle fought and won.

*

‘Oh my God,’ complained Claire, removing her earrings as she sat at her dressing table. ‘She never gives up, does she?’

Chris didn’t need to ask who she was talking about it. He removed his shirt and tie, dumping them in the laundry basket. ‘It was nice of your mum to offer to babysit though, wasn’t it?’

‘Honestly, Chris, you’d go nuts coming home to her here every day. And besides, who will do all the washing, cleaning, and cooking?’

‘Is Lucy going to be doing all that as well?’

‘Yep,’ said Claire triumphantly. ‘She’s a great cook, isn’t she?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t know,’ said Chris coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her. ‘Unless that lamb wasn’t produced by my wife’s own sweet fair hands?’ he joked, nuzzling into her neck.

Claire smiled. ‘I guess you’ll never know, will you?’

*

Claire pulled up the covers around her, luxuriating in the warmth. Turning on her left side, she slipped an arm around her sleeping husband’s waist. She was tired, the evening having taken its toll, but despite the comforting presence of Chris, she couldn’t sleep. Her mother had always been difficult, but she seemed to be getting worse. And when had her father become so passive?

Her mind raced backwards through her life – school, university, her first job, marrying Chris, the births of Joshua and Jamie – but nothing stuck out. Perhaps it was she who had changed? It was during such times that she wished she had a brother or sister to share her thoughts with. It was one of the reasons she’d been so adamant that she and Chris keep trying for a second baby – she didn’t want Joshua to be an only child like she had been.

There had been some benefits though. You were at the centre of your parents’ world. Which was fine when you were a child, but not so much when you were an adult. And over the years, it seemed like the focus had become more and more intense, like being under a microscope and the dial just kept turning and turning. And what about her Dad? They had been so close – allies against the world. Now, the only thing that seemed to make him happy was his football.