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3 September

Lisa liked to be in control. She could control most things. Like her ironing basket – she found it easy to stay on top of that, and most other women found it hard, which just goes to show what a great control freak she was. She controlled her soap-watching. Well, really, she just gave in to that. She never missed an episode of East Enders or Coronation Street. And she had a good idea about the main plots in Emmerdale and Holby City too. She could control what went into her kid’s lunchboxes – not too much junk, brown bread sandwiches, yogurt and carrot sticks – although she could not control what they really ate. For all she knew, they chucked away the fruit and spent their pocket money on crisps.

Controlling her family was the hard bit. The important bit and the hard bit. She liked to think she was in control of Kerry (aged fifteen), Paula (aged twelve) and Jack (aged eleven). They were good kids, largely, but you could never be sure.

Lisa lived in fear of a teenage pregnancy, a drug or drink problem or a not very happy copper standing at the door.

She hadn’t always been like this. Lisa used to be very positive, about her now and her future. But two years ago, just before her fortieth birthday, her husband of fifteen years had said goodbye.

Something like that shakes you up. It takes your trust away, your trust in the world. It seemed a serious thing to do just to get out of buying a birthday present. She’d have been happy enough with bubble bath or a box of chocolates.

While Lisa had been divorced for two years now, it still surprised her. She’d thought she would always be married to Keith. How was it possible that after fifteen years of being married you could stop being married suddenly? That was a silly question. Of course Lisa knew how it was possible. Your husband runs off with a woman with big breasts. Too big. Silly big. Papers are signed. You’re divorced. It’s as simple as that. But it’s not simple at all, not really – not in Lisa’s heart.

Lisa didn’t fall apart. She didn’t have time, with three kids to care for. Falling apart over a broken relationship is something you can only do when you are still a kid yourself. Or if you are a star, and Heat magazine will put your photo on their cover. If not, you just have to get on with it.

Her family was there for her. At least, they all acted just as she expected. That was a comfort of sorts, after Keith had acted so oddly.

Her mother and father went into shock. They’d been married for forty-five years. There had never been a divorce in the family. Well, except for Granny Hills and Uncle Terry and cousin Clare (she’d been divorced twice). They meant there had never been a divorce in the close family. They didn’t mean her to but Lisa got the feeling she’d let them down. It was a bit like receiving her O level results when she was sixteen. Everyone said she’d tried her best. No one looked that pleased with the results.

Her father’s hair turned white almost overnight. Her mother said it was the shock. Lisa believed it was because he’d stopped using that stupid dye her mum bought from Boots.

Her sister, Carol, was the posh one in the family. She’d married a teacher. He was now a headmaster, and somehow this had changed things. Carol had lunch and dinner now. The rest of the family were still happy with dinner and tea, with sometimes the odd bit of supper too. Carol no longer liked a bargain, she liked value for money. Carol used napkins at every meal. The rest of the family used kitchen roll, but only on special occasions.

Carol had not been happy when Keith left Lisa. She took it as a personal slight. In fact, as she took it so badly, Lisa felt she had to play down the whole thing. Lisa had to pretend it didn’t matter much. She pretended that selling her house, going out to work and being alone was all OK. She didn’t want to upset Carol any more. She was sick of Carol ranting.

But it did matter.

John, Lisa’s little brother, had the best reaction. He didn’t seem to have noticed Lisa was divorced at all. The divorce didn’t have anything to do with booze or women, which were his hobbies. John was thirty-eight and only ever thought about himself. He was still single and dead happy to be so. His longest ever relationship had lasted two months and he was proud of that. Lisa would be dying of shame. She told him this.

‘That’s the difference between men and women,’ he said. ‘If I play around, I’m a stud. If you do, you are a slapper.’

Lisa told her brother he was a sexist pig. He grinned, thinking she was being nice.

‘That’s not fair,’ said Lisa. But then she remembered it’s also not fair that Angelina Jolie gets to have babies with Brad Pitt. Life is many things. It can be funny, interesting, hard and sad, but it’s never fair.

Then there were the children. They seemed OK. But everyone said Lisa seemed OK. Was OK good enough? They seemed to understand it when their dad said he needed to be with the Big Breasted Woman from the accounts team at his work. More than he needed to be with them or his wife of fifteen years. He actually said he needed to be with Helen, but Lisa couldn’t bring herself to use the woman’s name. It made her seem… well, human. Lisa called her the Big Breasted Woman Who Replaced Me, or just the Big Breasted Woman for short.

The kids hadn’t turned to crime, and that was odd, because all the newspapers said kids from broken homes were trouble. Lisa’s kids were fine, which goes to show you can’t believe everything you read. The promise of two sets of birthday and Christmas presents really helped.

Lisa had had a very controlled morning. She had sorted the wash into light clothes and dark. She’d put on the darks. There were always more darks, the kids all lived in jeans. She’d cleaned the kitchen, made beds, run round with the hoover and the duster. She’d even washed the floor in the porch. She had everything under control. So why had it seemed such a terrible morning?

Lisa knew why. There’d been no noise. She was used to noise. She didn’t like noise but she expected it, lots of it. Today the only noise had been her voice.

‘Now then, Lisa, I think it’s time to clean out your sock drawer,’ she’d said. And then she’d said back to herself, ‘Good idea.’

But it was not a good idea. Manic cleaning and talking to yourself are signs of madness. Think of the Big Brother House. When a contestant starts to overdo the polishing, scrubbing, tidying, you know they are losing it, and it’s the same thing with talking to yourself.

It was the first day of the new school term. The kids were all back at school and Lisa felt very alone. It was odd that she missed them. Lisa had spent the last six weeks begging for hush. But now that the new school term had started Lisa was not so sure. The silence of an empty house was about as welcome as heavy rain on sports day.

Lisa grumbled that the kids were always demanding things from her.

‘Mum, I’m hungry. When’s tea?’

‘Mum, will you iron my top?’

‘Mum, can you drive me to my friend’s house?’

But in truth Lisa liked being needed. She had always been needed. Keith, her husband, had needed her first. But then he stopped needing her and became her ex-husband. Lisa felt the kids didn’t need her like they used to. She knew the kids couldn’t divorce her, as such. But they could leave. They should leave – that was natural. But what then, for Lisa? She had a new man in her life, Mark, but he was the independent sort. He didn’t need her. She wasn’t sure how long he’d want her for. Nothing was certain.

This year was the last school year for Kerry, unless Lisa could talk her into doing A levels. She might leave home in the next year or two. Lisa hated the idea. Paula was almost thirteen (going on thirty). Paula was more worldly than her mum. Lisa couldn’t remember the last time Paula had needed her for anything other than money! And now Jack was at secondary school too.

This morning Lisa had wanted to walk him to school. Jack went mad. He said his friends would laugh. The school was only up the road – not even as far as the chip shop. Lisa often sent him to buy chips. He was not a baby. He didn’t need Lisa. But Lisa needed him. Lisa needed to be needed.

She felt useless.