Finding My Voice

With a baby due in four weeks, I was nesting. We had just moved into our tiny two-bed terrace. The carpet was fresh, the walls unmarked and the cupboards full. A lentil curry bubbled away alongside a chicken curry, while I washed the rice under a cold running tap. I looked out onto the back street and watched the kids throw a football into our yard.

‘With my last £20 left from the food budget, that had to last me the rest of the week, I tracked down the cheapest pair of scales I could find and a cake tin’