Olivia approached her house, hurrying to get out of the shower. Nigel, she noticed, had mown the lawn. Obviously he was trying to curry favour – like cutting the grass was going to make things better. She stamped up the drive to the front door and let herself back in. Nigel was still sitting on the sofa, the paper lying on the table in front of him. If it hadn’t been for the mown lawn she’d have thought he hadn’t moved.

‘You’re back,’ he said.

‘Why? Were you expecting me to leave? Tempting though it is, I don’t think it’d help matters.’

‘No,’ he agreed.

‘We need to talk.’

‘What about?’

Olivia stared at her husband in utter disbelief. She took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself. ‘For starters, can Zac stay at his school, how much will we have left when we’ve sold this house and paid off your debts, just exactly how bad is the situation...?’ She wrapped her arms around herself, whether to try and comfort herself or to ward off the awfulness of the situation she didn’t know. ‘And you need to tell Zac. He has a right to know what’s going on, seeing as how it’s going to affect him too.’

‘Zac?’

‘Yes, you know, your son. Even if we can afford to keep him at St Anselm’s, he will have to leave this house, the place where he grew up, and he’s going to be affected. He has a right to find out the facts first. We can tell the other children as and when – they’re pretty much self-sufficient anyway so they’ll be the least affected. We can’t wait till we get everyone together to break the glad tidings en masse. It wouldn’t be fair on Zac. We can ask him not to tell the others.’

‘But what if he does?’

Olivia looked at Nigel coldly. ‘I’d have thought you’d prefer that – saves you the bother of having to own up to what you’ve done.’

‘That’s a low blow.’

‘Do you know something? I don’t care. So... where do we stand? I want to know everything, Nigel. Every detail.’

Nigel got up and went to the filing cabinet by his desk in the corner of the living area and pulled out a file from the back of one of the drawers. He spread the papers on the desk and Olivia came over and joined him.

‘I saw a debt specialist. He gave me some options.’

‘Which were?’

‘The easiest thing is to file for bankruptcy.’

‘As you mentioned. Us... bankrupt.’ She looked utterly defeated.

Nigel nodded.

‘And the other options?’

‘Consolidate the debt, pay a chunk off every month. It’d leave us with very little to play with but it might be better in the long run.’

‘Bankruptcy or penury,’ said Olivia. ‘Oh, dear God.’

‘My bonus will help. It might even cover Zac’s fees next year.’

‘And if it doesn’t?’

Nigel shrugged.

Olivia gave Nigel a long, cold stare. ‘Do you know, if I thought I’d be in a better place if I walked out right now, I’d be sorely tempted.’

‘Don’t leave me, Oli... Olivia. Please.’

‘Shut up, Nigel. You’ve got absolutely nothing to bargain with. Right, time to break the news to Zac.’

‘He’s out.’

‘Where?’

Nigel shrugged. ‘He said he was going to Cattebury on the bus and he mightn’t be home for lunch.’

Olivia checked the wall clock. ‘In which case, I’m going to have a look at our finances, in detail.’ She sat down at the desk and pulled the pile of documents towards her. To start with she found it almost impossible to concentrate; all she could think about now was how quickly her feelings for her husband had changed. Now she knew what the situation was, how much he owed, she realised that she actually felt loathing for him. After the best part of thirty years of marriage she hated him: she hated him for what he’d done to the family, their future, their security... and as for his selfishness in using their money to indulge his addiction... Olivia stopped. He had an addiction. He was ill. He wasn’t entirely to blame. But he was to blame for not telling her, for not seeking help earlier. A lot earlier. But, she told herself, this wasn’t helping her get to grips with their new situation. She forced herself to start looking at the figures properly.

It was gone two when Zac came in and loped up the stairs. Olivia, not entirely trusting the debt adviser, was still going through all the figures and trying different combinations and permutations to work out a strategy that would enable them to pay off the debt as quickly as possible whilst not being left completely penniless. She was concentrating so hard that she didn’t notice his reappearance until the sound of his music began to thump down the stairs from the mezzanine. She tried to zone out the irritating beat but after a while she gave up, threw down her pencil and climbed the stairs to Zac’s bedroom. She knocked on the door. No reply. Up here, on the landing, the techno-thump from his sound system was even louder. It seemed to her as if the actual wood of his door was vibrating. Dear God, did he have to play it so loud? No wonder he hadn’t heard her knock. She banged even louder.

‘Yeah, what?’ said Zac as he opened the door and stood slumped against the door jamb.

‘Stand up straight, darling,’ said Olivia, automatically.

A fug of Lynx wafted out of the room, carried into the rest of the house by the breeze from his wide-open windows. Olivia wasn’t surprised he had to have the windows open given the ratio of body spray to breathable air in the room. She could almost feel her eyes stinging.

‘What?’ repeated Zac.

‘Your father wants to have a word.’

Zac stared at her, his eyes heavy-lidded as if he hadn’t slept in several days. ‘Why?’

Olivia lost it. ‘Jesus, Zac, for once in your life just do as you are bloody well told!’ He shook his head, apparently startled by the vehemence of her tone but without looking any more inclined to obey her. If he hadn’t been several inches taller than her, Olivia might have been tempted to slap him. ‘Now!’

Zac ambled out of his room, slamming the door as he went.

Olivia reached past him and opened it again. ‘And turn that racket off.’

Zac gave her a withering look, but returned to his room and a couple of seconds later silence replaced the awful bass beat and electronic wailing. Olivia had no idea what it was that Zac listened to but she wasn’t going to dignify it by calling it ‘music’.

Olivia returned downstairs with Zac trailing after her. He threw himself on the sofa opposite his father so he was lying full length with his feet on the cushions.

‘So?’ he said.

‘Get your feet off the furniture,’ snapped Olivia.

Sulkily Zac swivelled round and put his feet on the floor.

‘Zac...’ said Nigel.

Zac crossed his arms and eyeballed his dad. Olivia thought he looked quite shifty, guilty even. She wondered what he had on his conscience.

‘Zac, I’d rather this wasn’t repeated outside these four walls but we’ve had a bit of bad luck.’ Olivia nearly choked and Nigel glanced in her direction before he amended his statement to, ‘That’s not entirely true. I’ve made a massive mistake and it’s cost us money.’

‘How much?’

‘A lot.’

Zac shook his head and flicked a glance from one parent to the other. ‘So it’s nothing I’ve done?’

‘Why did you think that?’ asked Olivia.

Zac shrugged. ‘I get the blame for everything.’

Well, he did get blamed for quite a lot by his father but usually because neither Zac nor his father were prepared to see each other’s point of view; the alpha male thing. But this time he definitely looked as if he had a guilty conscience.

‘No, it’s nothing you’ve done,’ said Nigel.

Unlike your father, Olivia was tempted to add.

‘So, why you telling me?’ asked Zac.

‘Because there are some serious implications.’

Zac looked more engaged. ‘Like?’

Nigel took a deep breath. ‘For a start, there’s a chance you may have to leave St Anselm’s after this term. You may have to start at the comp in the autumn.’

‘You’re kidding me. I am not going to that dump.’

‘There may not be a choice.’

Zac got to his feet. ‘I’m not going.’

‘Sit down!’ roared Nigel. ‘Sit down,’ he repeated in a more conciliatory tone.

Zac sank back on the sofa.

‘You may not get a choice. At sixteen you can go to a sixth form college or leave or do whatever the hell you like but, until then, you have to go to school.’

‘Lots of your friends from primary school go there,’ said Olivia, trying to soften the news.

Zac shot her a look. ‘They’re not my friends any more.’

‘Ashley is.’

Zac ignored her. ‘It’ll be rank.’

‘And, maybe more importantly,’ said Nigel, ‘we’ve got to sell the house.’

Zac flopped backwards. ‘Move?’

Nigel nodded.

‘Where?’

Nigel shrugged. ‘Somewhere smaller, cheaper to run.’ He sighed. ‘So, given the size of this place, what the heating bills are, almost anywhere in town.’ It was a poor joke.

‘Let’s face it,’ said Olivia, almost as much to convince herself than her son, ‘we don’t need five bedrooms, not now you’re the only one actually living here full-time.’

‘But what about when the others come home?’

Your brother and sisters have their own places, pretty much. Tamsin’ll be finishing her master’s this year and with any luck she’ll walk into a job and be self-sufficient just like Jade and Mike.’

‘And if she doesn’t?’

‘Let’s not meet trouble halfway.’

Zac slumped. ‘So let me get this right, Dad makes a massive mistake and no one shouts at him. I fail to put my plate in the dishwasher and you all get on my back.’

‘Don’t be childish,’ snapped Olivia.

‘It isn’t just the house,’ said Nigel. ‘We’re going to have to tighten our belts all round; no more foreign holidays, no more expensive TV packages, we’ll probably have to get rid of one of the cars, your allowance will have to be cut.’

‘My...’ Zac went white. ‘You can’t.’

‘I’m afraid we’re going to have to.’

Zac looked close to tears. ‘So what did Dad do?’

There was silence. It wasn’t for Olivia to answer this one. The ball was in Nigel’s court.

Zac looked at him. ‘Well? I think I’ve got a right to know – given that your crappy mistake means I’m going to be skint all the time and you may have cost me my place at school.’ There was a catch in his voice and Olivia was surprised. She didn’t know his school meant so much to him.

Olivia half-expected Nigel to yell at Zac for his cheek but he remained silent.

‘Come on, Dad.’

‘I lost the money gambling,’ Nigel muttered.

Zac sat bolt upright. ‘You did what?’

‘You heard.’

‘Fucking hell,’ breathed Zac. He clenched and unclenched his fists.

‘Language,’ said Olivia.

Zac looked from one parent to the other and snorted. ‘I don’t think either of you have got the right to lecture me about anything any more.’ He stood up. ‘What a pair of losers you two have turned out to be.’ And with that he slammed out of the house.

‘That went well,’ said Olivia as she stared at the front door and tried not to cry.

*

Ashley sat on the swings at the park and swung, morosely, to and fro as he mulled over the arrival of Billy into his home. Even though there was the threat of another rain shower he didn’t care. He didn’t feel like he wanted to be in the house with Billy – no way. He supposed he’d always known that his mum might hook up with someone and maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to have someone to help with the bills. And Billy had a car... but... but he didn’t like the man. He didn’t actively dislike him but he felt wary of him. If he’d wanted a father-figure and he had to pick from a line-up, Billy would be amongst the last on his list. Frankly, he thought, Homer Simpson had better parenting skills than Billy probably did. He knew he was being unfair; Billy wasn’t ever going to be his parent but, selfishly, if his mum had to hitch up with someone, he’d have liked her partner to be someone who might want to have a kick-around with him or who would take him to a match. He couldn’t see Billy wanting to do anything like that – he’d be too worried about messing up his designer kit or scuffing his Nike Air Max trainers.

And he didn’t like the way Billy had taken over in the house from the instant he’d arrived. He’d taken charge of the remote, he sat in the chair that had been his, he hogged the bathroom and he’d even ticked Ashley off for leaving his shoes in the hall. What right, thought Ashley crossly, had he to say anything about how he and his mum behaved in their house? He was the guest and yet he acted as if he owned the place – and worst of all, his mum either didn’t notice or she didn’t care. Well, he did. Ashley kicked at a stone and sent it skidding over the wet rubberised play surface.

Movement next to him caught his eye and he stopped staring at his shoes and glanced up.

‘Hiya, Zac.’

‘Hi.’

Ashley looked at Zac and saw he looked thoroughly miserable. ‘You all right?’

Zac shook his head.

So, what is it? Your dealer getting heavy?’

Zac shook his head again.

‘Want to talk about it?’

Ashley could see Zac was struggling with an answer.

‘No, well... if you change your mind.’ Ashley pushed back and let the swing rock forward before he jumped off. ‘I suppose I ought to be getting home. Mum’s expecting me back.’

‘No... wait.’

Ashley sat back down on the swing.

‘It’s my dad.’

‘He’s found out about your habit, has he?’

Zac shook his head. ‘No. No, he’s...’

‘He’s what? Ill?’

‘Ha. If only.’ He twisted the swing round on its chains so it was facing Ashley. ‘He and Mum have just told me he’s gambled all our money away.’

Ashley could feel his jaw slackening and his eyes widening. ‘No. He couldn’t have done. All of it?’

Zac snorted. ‘It’s not the sort of thing you joke about, is it?’

‘But all of it?’

‘It’s what he and Mum said.’

‘Blimey,’ whispered Ashley under his breath. It put his irritation with Billy in perspective.

‘They said we’re going to have to move – somewhere smaller.’

‘Hey, living in a small house ain’t the end of the world. Just saying.’

Zac looked at Ashley. ‘Yeah, I know. Sorry.’

‘Welcome to my world.’

‘It’s all such a mess. And they’re going to cut my allowance.’

Ahh, that was probably the thing that worried Zac the most, thought Ashley. Without that, how was he going to fund his habit? Maybe he’d have to quit, although everything Ash had ever heard about drugs seemed to indicate that coming off them was no picnic. Ash wanted to feel sorry for his friend but it was hard. It seemed to Ash that all Zac’s problems were entirely avoidable and it was hard to feel sympathy for people who couldn’t resist the self-destruct button – like father, like son.

‘I wish I could help you, Zac,’ he said. ‘Maybe you could get a job to earn some cash? Do a paper round or something?’

Or maybe not, thought Ashley, when he saw the look of disgust pass over his pal’s face. His feelings of sympathy waned further.