Chris didn’t really get it. Why would he? He had two kids, didn’t know how it felt to be what her mam’s generation had always called ‘barren’. The horrible word kept coming back to her now, haunting her as she tried to come to terms with the fact she would never feel a life growing inside her, a baby kick. He was a man; he didn’t understand how deep-rooted her need for a baby was. She’d always imagined her life with children, she loved children. Even when she saw a baby on the television her heart melted, she wanted to smell them, feel their little fingers and hold them close to her heart. After the hysterectomy her world fell apart – it had destroyed her. She cried non-stop for days, sometimes she couldn’t even get out of bed. Chris was her rock at first, but, as time went by, his wife’s pain seemed to wash over him. Of course he cared, he even offered to buy her a puppy to try and take the pain away, but she refused. How could the aching in her heart be taken away by a daft bleeding animal? He just didn’t get it.

Tina lay on the sofa watching the events on the street unfold while munching on snacks. Crisps were her downfall – she didn’t want to count the number of packets she could get through in a night while she was watching TV. She ate the last one then poked every finger inside her mouth in turn so she could suck off the salty flavouring. At least the comfort eating kept her away from the booze, she figured.

Behind her the door was flung open and Nevaya stormed into the room, up in arms about something, ever the drama queen. She was shrieking at the top of her voice and it took every ounce of Tina’s self-control not to read her the riot act. She wouldn’t stand for this at school – why should she have to put up with it at home? Who the hell did she think she was talking to? There was really no need for this. Nevaya carried on shouting and poking her finger towards her stepmother.

‘Have you used all the conditioner? I have to wash my hair tonight and it’s all gone. Every Tuesday and Friday I wash my hair, and you’ve used it all again. You’re a selfish bitch. You’ve done it on purpose.’

Chris sat up, his hair was stuck up all over the place. He’d been having a snooze, hand stuck down the front of his shorts. He sat up swiftly, and looked over at his daughter.