Page 16 of The Christmas Fayre on Holly Field

Meh, who was she kidding? It was never going to work. Sara wouldn’t be keen on making a card for Darlene’s birthday at the best of times, and after finding out she’d either have to wear what was in her wardrobe or trawl around the boot sale on Saturday, she would probably have a meltdown.

If Harriet blamed herself for her daughter’s attitude, she blamed Declan more. While she had been busy trying to set boundaries, Declan had indulged the children to the point that it had become a rather large bone of contention between them. Then he’d buggered off, and now not only had all the spoiling and the treats stopped, but the kids were lucky if they saw him from one month to the next. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time they had spoken to him, let alone had a visit from him. Bobby had stopped talking about his father, and Sara only mentioned him infrequently – like when she was trying to play Harriet off against him. Harriet recalled the conversation she’d had with Sara when she had threatened to ask her dad if he would buy her something new to wear to Darlene’s party. Harriet assumed the answer had been no, if the child had actually managed to speak to her father, because more often than not, he didn’t answer his phone.

Her heart bled for her children, but there was nothing she could do about their father’s lack of regard.

Bobby barrelled in through the door first, quickly followed by Sara, and the pair of them headed for the fridge, casting aside bags and coats as they did so.

Harriet had a feeling of déjà vu. It was the same scenario every school day, and she mentally counted the seconds off in her head before one of the children asked what was for tea.

‘Fish fingers,’ she informed them.

‘Yay! My favourite.’

Harriet smiled stiffly, wondering how long her daughter’s good mood would last once she knew about the card and new outfit situation. ‘Have you got any homework? No, Bobby, you can’t have another yoghurt – you haven’t finished the one you’ve got in your hand yet. If you’re hungry, have some fruit. Or there’s a nut-and-seed bar in the cupboard. And please can you put your PE kit in the laundry basket? Sara, homework.’

Harriet might as well have been talking to the wall, for all the good it did.

Bobby left his bags on the floor and made a dash for the stairs, and Sara headed for the living room and the TV.

‘Kids, get back here and sort out your school bag: Sara, no TV until you’ve done your homework.’

A chorus of groans, ‘it’s not fair’, and elaborate sighing followed, but at least the children dragged themselves back into the kitchen and did as they were told.

‘Did you have a good day?’ she asked, directing the question to both of them.

‘It was all right,’ Sara mumbled, scooping her bag up off the floor and slinging it over her shoulder.

‘Have you got any homework?’

‘Loads.’

‘What subjects?’

‘History. We’ve got to do some research on where we live.’

‘That sounds interesting.’

‘It’s dumb.’

‘Riiight. How about you, Bobby? Did you have a good day?’ Harriet turned her attention to her youngest, who had his head in the fridge again. ‘What did I say about eating another yoghurt?’

‘But I’m hungry.’

‘Fruit,’ she reminded him. ‘Or a nut-and-seed bar.’ She made them herself and she knew exactly how much goodness was in them.

Bobby pulled a face, but took a banana from the bowl, peeling it reluctantly.

Why did everything have to be a battle?she wondered, wishing Declan were there to take some of the weight off her shoulders, even if he hadn’t been much use on the discipline side of things.

Harriet shook her head to clear it. What on earth was she thinking, wishing that Declan still lived with them? He had made his feelings pretty clear, so why she would want him back was beyond her.

If she was honest, she didn’t. It would just be nice to have another adult in the house, that was all – someone she could sound off to when things got a bit much, someone she could share her worries with, share her hopes with… Shareanythingwith, really.

Tea didn’t take long to prepare, and within half an hour it was on the table and she was shouting for the children to wash their hands and come eat.

Bobby was first to sit down, his hands still suspiciously grubby, so Harriet sent him away to wash them again.

‘We’ll eat this then take Etta for a walk, yeah?’ Harriet said. Déjà vu again…

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