‘Annie is in her giraffe suit that she’s starting to outgrow; the legs come up to her knees. She’s cut herself a fringe and it rises jauntily across her forehead. No one has tidied it up. Josh hands the lollies out and the Stevenson brats squabble about flavours – so much sugar deprivation has made them whiny and Andrea Stevenson duly reprimands them. Annie is on her knees following Karl about the kitchen, hands in a prayer position, and Polly is doing the same to Ness. I know what they are up to: begging for a sleepover. And a pathetic part of me feels even more forgotten. Negotiations will have to begin. I suppose it must be a Saturday. Handsome Josh will have a match tomorrow. There he is, so grown up, so satiated; he lifts Annie up from the floor and holds her under his arm like a handbag and starts play-fighting with her on the sofa. My eyes well up. I yearn for them, just to hold them, to touch them. Children need their mother. Or do they? Or is it just me who needs them? Didn’t Karl say that they were scared of me? I think the Devil told me that too.

‘I retreat into the shadows as Ness moves to the sink, my sink, to commence the mountain of washing-up. Andrea Stevenson joins her. The men do fuck all. My loyalty wavers. I move to the side a little to see better, to get closer to her, sure that the fairy lights within make it impossible for her to see me. I could tap on the glass now, give her a fright. As she turns her head to reach for a dirty pan, I notice that she has a few red burn marks on her neck and I feel good about that, the fact that she too is scarred. I hate her. I hate him. I hate the way they’re all coping so well without me. I miss them all.

‘I wait. I am happy to wait all night. I follow their movements. I stand at the back door looking in when the Stevensons leave – no doubt with hopes and promises of future good times together. The other woman goes with them and I can’t see which kids are left behind but I can hear the boiler going on upstairs; someone is running a bath. Karl and Ness come back through to the kitchen, pausing right near me, his hand resting on her back, turning her around; they kiss each other hungrily as if they’ve been starved, wishing those Stevensons had gone hours ago. I see their passion. I watch as she pushes her body into his, moulding into his shape. They look wrong together, he’s far too tall for her. She’s too beautiful. I am mesmerized as they devour each other’s faces like slimy feasting sea creatures.