Tom said nothing, barely acknowledged the kids before he went to bed feigning some sort of tummy bug. I didn’t believe him, it’s too coincidental. Anything not to talk. Even when he was dying with shingles he was able to finish off his dinner. But tonight, no. He moved a few meatballs around the plate, rearranged strands of spaghetti then stood up and left the room. I’m beginning to think he may have played down the events of yesterday.

Any other time I would have told Tom about my saga at Tesco, how I walked out of the shop with the trolley. But at the moment, I don’t feel like sharing anything with Tom, especially when it happened over the photo and makes me look like I’m losing it. God, I hope I’m not losing it?

The boys are safely tucked into bed when I check in with Amber. Immediately she lifts her head from her phone. Soft pink pyjamas, no make-up hiding her beauty, Amber looks about twelve years old. Her big green eyes open wide when I sit at the end of the bed. Brushing my hand over her bare foot, I look at her. This angel. This gift. When did she stop being a little girl? What day was it? I can’t remember. I certainly wasn’t given any warning. There was no graduation ceremony. It just happened. Amber went from being by my side every moment of every day to barely being there at all.

Amber is the reason I put up with so much shit on the quiet. I want her to be happy. She doesn’t need to know it was her dad who ruined her mom’s chances of owning her own salon. There are times I wish I could tell her, wipe the look of admiration from her face when Daddy arrives on the scene. But what good would it do? She would just end up disappointed in both of us.

‘Amber honey.’

‘What?’ she answers abruptly, sitting up and wrapping her arms around her folded legs. Is she expecting bad news or something?

‘Nothing, nothing, I was just wondering if everything is all right?’

‘Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?’

‘It’s just… you seem a bit distracted lately, like something is bothering you and I don’t think we spend enough time together anymore.’

Amber pulls her feet away from my hand. ‘Well, that’s your fault, you’re in work all the time.’

‘I have to work, sweetie, bills have to be paid.’

I don’t want to tell her Tom’s debts have to be paid too. That not only did Tom lose my thirteen thousand euros but he also managed to extort ten thousand from an acquaintance of his who is threatening to take him to court if he doesn’t get it back at one thousand euros a month.