Luckily he’d started school last year, which meant that she really only needed a childminder in the afternoons, these days, but who knew how things could change in the future?

At this point, Annie wasn’t sure how she was going to get through even this month with the amount of money owed to suppliers and the staff and business overheads to pay.

She wasn’t going to let those worries show, she resolved, as she chatted with Gemma for a bit before bundling Charlie into the car. She wasn’t going to allow him to suffer because of her concerns about them either.

When they reached home, Annie stared at the lovely house that had been theirs for the last two years. She’d never felt so proud as she did when #GlamSquad was doing well enough that she’d been able to get a mortgage on a place of their own.

She’d never really lived in a proper house before, not since she was a child at the O’Dohertys’, and when Charlie was a baby she’d been restricted to the poky flats offered to single mothers on welfare.

But through her hard work and efforts with the salon, she’d managed to get them out of social housing and into a place with a proper garden where her son could run around and play, where he could have his own room and she’d have a real kitchen—not a few inches separated from the living room by a foot of table.

She and Charlie had that now, but for how much longer?

“Mum, what’s for dinner?” he asked as he got out, tucked his football under his arm, and slammed the car door. No matter how many times she told him not to, he always did it.

“I don’t know. I’ll have to see what’s in the fridge.”

“But it’s Friday! Maybe a takeaway?” he suggested with a grin that always had the power to melt her heart. “Pizza?”

His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.

Usually, Annie would have insisted they ate a proper nutritious meal prepared from scratch by her, but she wasn’t sure how many more chances they’d have to order in.

Memories of the hard times began to fill her mind once again. Days of nothing but tinned beans, tuna, and potatoes—and whatever cuts of meat were cheapest or on offer in the supermarkets. She didn’t want that for Charlie. She didn’t want that life again. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—go back to that.

Something had to be done.

The house was a two-bed duplex, and so bright and roomy inside. Annie could still remember what it felt like the first day she walked into it.

There was something about it; something new and fresh and warm, and she knew instantly that this was the place for her and Charlie. This was home.