When I was ten years old and my younger brother was just three, our father left us. He found another woman, one he thought lovelier than our mother. Father left us the flat, though it still had payments left on it. When my parents were still together, I went to a good school, took part in competitions and clubs, and played netball. But after their divorce, everything changed.
Mother was forced to take on two jobs at once. She worked as a cleaner, then hurried off to care for an ailing lady in the evenings. I had to transfer from my grammar school to a local comprehensive, closer to home. I stopped playing netball, as Mother always left me to watch over my brother whenever she had a rare moment free. Life was completely altered. I finished school, went on to university, and then put my nose to the grindstone like so many before me. Somewhere along the way, I realised my joyful childhood had quietly slipped away.
