Had my former job not become the victim of yet more funding cuts, I would simply have carried on in my original role and not made the brave decision to set up my own art therapy business, which was what, deep down, I had wanted to do for years.

Had Mum been around to counsel me, I knew that was exactly what she would have said too. She would have told me it was fate and that when I came out the other side, I would be able to see the real reason behind why it had all happened. That had been the sort of woman she was. A bubbly, glass-half-full personality, full of hope and optimism.

She had sadly passed just a couple of weeks after I turned eleven, her heart having given up on life long before it should, so she hadn’t been there to hold my hand through the turbulent time, but now I was through it and I could see the point, as well as my exciting new future. Setting up and working independently I would be able to support many more struggling youngsters than just those who had come my way in one school.

‘Better late than never, Liza Wynter,’ I told myself as I heaved my tired body on to the sofa and snuggled into the cosy nest of cushions I liked to cocoon myself in when I was feeling in need of a hug.

My mobile buzzed on the seat next to me and, without thinking, I reached for my ponytail and swept it over my shoulder. The familiar action offered some comfort, but not quite enough. I didn’t need to look at the screen to know who was calling and I sank further into the cushions, nudging the phone away with my foot.

True to form, David, my late father’s business partner, had rung every day of October. When Dad had died four years ago, David had kindly stepped up and taken over managing the Christmas tree plantation on the outskirts of Wynmouth on the Norfolk coast and his determination to coax me into showing an interest in it had never waned. As soon as autumn took hold and cards, lights and gifts appeared in the shops, he would instigate his far from subtle strategy to coax me back all over again.

‘Just come and take a look at everything,’ he would say. ‘It’s come on even further this year.’

I didn’t doubt it, but I had no desire to see it. I couldn’t stand the place.

‘Let me just get this term out of the way,’ I would bat back ad infinitum. ‘And then we’ll see.’