Walton Merritt

**Monday, 15th March** I was never wealthy—no designer clothes, no flashy cars. I grew up in a working-class

**Diary Entry, 12th May** I’ve spent ages trying to find the right way to tell this story, but two words

Divorcing at sixty-eight isn’t some grand romantic gesture or a midlife crisis. It’s admitting defeat.

*”Why have children if you don’t have time to raise them?” — I won’t sacrifice my life just

It was an ordinary evening. I had barely managed to settle my daughter to sleep at last, allowing myself

“My son said there’s no place for me in his life anymore. How did it come to this?”

I’m sixty years old, living alone. This isn’t the old age I’d imagined for myself. I’

I’ve never lived with a mother-in-law—and I’ve no intention of putting up with daughters-in-law in my

When my mother-in-law found out we were planning to buy a flat, she pulled my husband aside for a talk.

“Oi, this isn’t a hotel!”—My brother-in-law moved in, and now I can’t get rid of him.