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‘Shut up!’ Olly’s fingers tighten. ‘Do you hear me? Just shut up! What do you know about anything? You made me worse. If it weren’t for you, I’d be able to walk normally. You did everything wrong. You’ve ruined my life.’

I stumble sideways, adopting my usual duck and cower position. But there is no onslaught.

When I look up, I see Olly limping in circles around the living area.

I grip the marble counter, shaking.

Olly will get better. He’ll calm down when the baby comes.

If he doesn’t … oh God, that doesn’t even bear thinking about. A single mother with no money or support. I couldn’t bear it. I’ve always been so certain I’d give my children a better upbringing than the one I had. Stability. Happiness.

Ollywillchange. Hehasto change and this has to work out.

What else can I hope for?

Lizzie

It’s ten at night and I’ve just put the washing on. I’ll have to wait up for the cycle to finish, then hang the washing out so it’s dry for tomorrow.

I keep going over my meeting with Mrs Dudley yesterday. Replaying it over and over.

Tom is fast asleep, following a miserable evening. We ate dinner in silence, then he went to bed early without being asked.

I should go to bed too. But instead, I’m on the Internet, posting questions on Mumsnet. I did this a lot when I was with Olly – going onto medical websites and posting question after question about his broken leg.

But this time I want to know about children’s friendships. My question is:

My son started a new school this term and is angrier than usual, keeping secrets, not talking. I’m worried. He seems to be getting in with the wrong crowd. Normal??

I’ve had a few kind replies telling me I have nothing to worry about. But one mother had a similar experience and moved her son to another school: ‘He’s much happier now. We all are.’

‘Don’t worry,’ writes another mum. ‘All perfectly normal … My daughter made all the wrong friends at first, but has some lovely ones now.’

Most of the answers say it’s probably just a phase, don’t worry, kids change friendship groups all the time, they go through moody times, maybe he’s just tired, and so on.

But … I am worried.

Tom is changing.

My eyes wander to the kitchen, where the new heavy-duty security box sits in a kitchen cupboard. It holds our medical supplies now and I keep the key close to my body at all times.

There is a spare key sticky-taped to the bottom of the bin. But I know every wrinkle and crease of the sticky tape, and check every day to make sure it hasn’t been tampered with.

Leaning back in my chair, I cup my eyes with my palms.

Okay. Okay. Maybe we can move schools … Maybe that’s the solution to all this. Run away and hope all our problems disappear.

Deep down, I know that’s not really an option. Kate Noble said social services take a dim view of children being moved around. The last thing I need is another black mark against us.

But maybe if we moved to a school within the area … I do a quick search for schools within fifty miles.

The word ‘oversubscribed’ comes up over and over. I knew that already – social services pulled a lot of strings to get us into Steelfield School.

My fingers hover over the keyboard, and I decide to stop my obsessive Google searching and check my emails before bed.

There are three ‘parent update’ messages from the school, and I feel guilty that I haven’t opened them yet. I might have missed something important.

I click open the first email, scanning the news: