Where The Story Starts

by Imogen Clark

I’d have made it my business to keep us all tight, a little ball of strength safe against whatever the outside world could hurl at us.

Yes, she’d been to all the places that I was desperate to see, but what was the point of travelling if you didn’t have anything to come home to?

But once I locked our front door at night and the children were tucked up in bed, that was when I really missed having someone there to be with.

Having said that, ‘feisty and independent’ were all very well, but sometimes I longed for a bit of ‘protected and cherished’ instead.