Kerry Fisher - The Woman I Was Before

The Secret Child

The Silent Wife

After the Lie

The Island Escape

The Not So Perfect Mother

The Woman I Was Before

To Michaela for your resilience, your kindness and your sense of justice.

Of all the emotions I felt as I walked into my new house, hope was the most unexpected. But there it was, against the backdrop of fresh paint, a fragment of belief that this time, in the first home Id owned since it all went wrong, Daisy and I would know good times.

Of course, right behind hope was the familiar rush of caution Keep yourself to yourself tagging along like a truculent toddler Id been unable to shake off for the last sixteen years.

I glanced at Daisy, trying to read her face. I had no right to need anything from her. No right to expect excitement or gratitude. I was still willing her to show some enthusiasm, if only to dissolve the big knot of guilt sitting in my stomach like a doughnut I should never have eaten. She didnt disappoint. Despite growing up with just me, my daughter had sidestepped my tendency to look backwards, to dwell, to live in the past. Instead she gathered herself in and headed towards the next thing with a quiet determination I hadnt mastered at forty-three, let alone at seventeen.

As she stepped into the living room and whirled round and round, her olive skin standing out against the light walls, her dark hair swirling behind her, I managed not to suggest she took off her Dr. Martens. I itched to hurry out to the van to fetch the Hoover, to smooth out the pile in the carpet again, to keep our lives blank and uneventful.

Daisy picked up my phone from the windowsill and started taking photos. I longed to snatch it back, but I didnt want to dampen her enthusiasm. She scowled as I said, Dont put anything on social media.

Im just sending a photo to Maddie. She wanted to see where Id moved to.

I made myself smile. Shell have to come and visit.

Daisy shrugged as though she knew that the forward motion of the teenage world would wash the traces of her away within a matter of months. One hundred and twenty miles might as well be the other side of the world in real life.

I moved out of the shot and let her carry on. There wasnt much in the empty room that would announce to all and sundry that wed moved onto a brand-new estate built around an old hospital in Windlow. I hoped this move to Surrey would be the last time Id have to pack up and erase our lives.

I could have an amazing party in here.

I ignored the comment. Even if I could bear the thought of a gang of teenagers rampaging through the house, I hated the idea of a whole group of new people knowing where we lived.

Daisy rushed through to the kitchen to look out at the garden. Theres room out there for one of those blow-up swimming pools. We might be able to get one cheap on eBay. Then she frowned and laughed at herself. Not that I know anyone to invite round, obviously. She nearly kept the resentment out of her voice.

I was tempted to agree to anything she wanted, just so I could stop feeling so bad about dragging her to another town, away from her friends for the third time in her short life. Instead I promised myself that this time no one was going to hound me out.

I put on my cheeriest voice. Youll soon meet new people. I bet therell be loads of teenagers on this estate. I pointed through the double doors. That girl in the house opposite looks about your age.

Daisy raced through into the living room and hovered behind the curtain, peering at the driveway over the road. I stood back, not wanting to get a reputation as the community curtain twitcher. Naturally, the biggest house on the estate would have to have a conventional family set-up, like the Topsy and Tim books my mum used to read to Daisy when she was little. There they all were, Mum, Dad, son and daughter twisting into a back-breaking pose, all four of them laughing with their hands on the door handle while the daughter tried to capture them all in a selfie. The big sign that said 21 Parkview would probably be in the corner of that picture, for any casual Facebook observer to see. I couldnt imagine living a life where it didnt matter.

Daisy stopped me disappearing down those familiar, well-trodden routes that never led to a solution, by saying, Shall we go over and say hello?

I hoped she didnt see me shudder. It was years since strangers had recognised me, horrified fascination passing over their faces before the most brazen dared to ask, Arent you that woman who was in the newspaper? I still dreaded that flicker of puzzlement, followed by wary curiosity. They wont want us going over now. Theyll be getting on with their unpacking. Wed better make a start with ours if were not going to end up sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Therell be time to introduce ourselves later.

And with that, we went outside, where Jim and Darren, the blokes Id found to bring us from Peterborough to our new home in a little market town in Surrey, were tag-teaming alternate scratches of man boobs and balls. Jim was muttering about his back already aching. Hope youre going to give us a hand up them stairs with that wardrobe. Mind you, looks a bit narrow at the top there. Going to be tight to turn.

Darren nodded. These new houses arent meant for big pieces of furniture like that, he said, his face arranging into some kind of satisfaction that I might end up with a pine wardrobe wedged between the banisters and the landing.

Over the road, my new neighbour let out a shriek of delight. The kettle! Who wants a cuppa?

I resisted shouting, Me! as a team of professional movers made manoeuvring a solid oak table through her front door look like they were flipping a piece of balsa wood on its side.

I dragged my eyes back to the battered van and smiled. Come on then. Lets put our backs into it. You too, Daisy. I resisted the temptation to snap, Put my phone down and grab the toaster!

There was a waft of BO as Jim reached for the bin bag full of coats Id grabbed off the pegs as we left our old house. A wave of loneliness washed over me at doing all of this on my own again. But nowhere near as acute as the day when my husband, Oskar, told me he was leaving to go and work with his cousin in Argentina where I can start again and forget about all of this.

Even if I moved to the furthest corner of Australia, I would never forget.

Every time I turned round to ask Jack where he thought we should put something, he was waving his hand in that dont bother me right now, big businessman on a very important call way of his. God forbid he should actually have a day off and help with something as mundane as sorting out the home we were going to live in. Hed done the grand gesture of organising a bouquet of roses to arrive mid-morning and clearly thought that was his contribution to proceedings.

Ollie, while Dad deals with his urgent business, could you just make sure all the boxes that say spare room go up to the top floor?

Sure. My stuffs going in the room at the front now, right?

I frowned. Youre having the bedroom overlooking the garden.

Hannah says she wants it.

I shook my head. We sorted all of this out ages ago, when we first saw the house.