Emily Taylor

My friend Emily is an incredible cook. Divine, absolutely mouthwatering—she can turn a simple courgette

Right, so off we went to visit the mother-in-law. Lovely. She lived in a tiny village, in a little cottage

In my old age, my eldest son has stopped speaking to me. He has gone back to the woman who once broke

Well, here we are. We went to visit the mother-in-law, you see. Aye. She lived in a little village, in

**Diary Entry** Well, here’s how it went. We drove up to visit the mother-in-law. Right. She lived in

**Diary Entry** In my old age, my son stopped speaking to me. He went back to the woman who had already

In my old age, my son stopped talking to me. He went back to that woman who’d already broken his heart once.

Grandmother: comes, plays with the child, leaves. Me: cook, clean, entertain. I’m at my wit’s end.

My heart shatters with pain and loneliness. I’m tired of fighting alone while my grown children—the ones

Grandma comes over, plays with the kid, then leaves. Me? I cook, clean, entertain. I’m at my breaking point.