She was allowing herself to be manipulated, and she’d almost given up caring. She was too tired to resist.

Defeated, she locked the front door and drove to school.

Caitlin scowled from under her fringe for the short journey and the moment Liza stopped the car she sprang out and headed through the gates, all sweet smiles and waves when she saw her friends.

“Bye, Mum.” Alice slammed the car door behind her and followed her sister.

Liza sat in the silence of the car and then glanced back at the twins. Caitlin was now convulsed with laughter, arms round her friends. Less than fifteen minutes earlier she’d behaved as if her life was over. Now she looked as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

Hurt slid into her.

Breathe, Liza, breathe.

They’d come through this phase, as they had all the others. One day she’d laugh at it. Would she?

She wanted so badly to be close to them. She’d never wanted them to think I wish I was closer to my mother, as she so often did. But they didn’t seem interested.

What was she to them? She was a chauffeur, a housekeeper, a chef.

And whose fault was that?

Liza swallowed. What had her mother said? Which part of your life is for you and no one else?

The answer was none of it.

She forced herself to take a hard, brutal look at the truth. Gradually, over time, they’d learned to expect her to do things for them. They didn’t see it as an act of love. They took advantage. Where are my jeans? Have we run out of milk?

The girls didn’t appreciate her affection or her interest. Stop the inquisition, Mum.

All she had to show for the last sixteen years of homemaking was two young women who expected her to cook their meals, do their laundry and be at their beck and call.

Right on cue, her phone rang.

Caitlin.

Liza reached out to take the call and then changed her mind. No. If she wasn’t always available, maybe the girls would start thinking for themselves.

She let the call go to voice mail and immediately felt anxious. What if it was an emergency? Or what if Caitlin wanted to apologize for her rude, selfish behavior?

Hating herself for not being stronger, she checked the message.

“Mum!” Caitlin’s voice barked down the phone. “I’ve forgotten to bring the school drama cup from home and it’s the last day. I’ll lose house points if I don’t, and everyone will hate me. I need you to drop it into reception at lunchtime.” There were giggles in the background and then the phone went dead.

Please, Mum. Thank you, Mum.

I love you, Mum.

Liza stuffed her phone into her bag.