She never wanted to come in the first place. Downright coercion. That’s what it was.
‘I’ve got plans,’ she’d said when Mandy asked her if she fancied it. She didn’t have, of course. Bar sitting the kids down in front of the telly, while she made half-hearted inroads into the pile of chores that, like every weekend, she’d promised herself she’d get on top of this time. And never did.
Getting on top of the mess had never been a problem before. In fact, Stu used to say she was too much on top of it. It was the one thing they’d argue about. He never put things away. It used to drive her mad. But that was before.
There was nothing left of Stu’s things any more. Just a few books and some vinyl records. Their wedding photo. No clothes. No other bits and pieces. Where he was now there was no need for bits and pieces. Two weeks ago, she’d finally deleted all his social media accounts.
A party, Mandy had said. Food. Games. Face-painting. It was
