Emily Taylor

**Diary Entry – 18th March** This happened to an old mate of mine from university—let’s call him Oliver.

“It’s my car, and I decide who uses it!” declared my mother-in-law. My husband, William, and I were a

**Diary Entry** Oh dear, I just got off the phone with Mum, and my heart’s breaking. She was in tears

Long ago, in a weathered brick house nestled in the outskirts of Manchester, my old university friend

“This is ridiculous—we have a baby, why don’t we just swap rooms?” That’s how my brother’s

“Oh, love, I can’t take it anymore with these kids! They’re driving me mad!”

“Bloody hell, love, I just can’t take these kids anymore! They’re driving me up the wall!”

“You care more about that cat than your own nephew!” my mother shrieked. Ever since I was

“That bloody cat means more to you than your own nephew!” Mum shrieked. Ever since I was little, I—Emily—had

“You care more about that cat than your own nephew!” Mum yelled. Ever since I was little