It was beautiful here, Nina decided, postcard perfect. Everything looked like a picture taken in the highest definition. Hot sun shone in the sharp blue sky. The sand crumbled beneath their toes as they walked along the empty beach hand in hand.

The winters were cold, or so she'd been told, but Nina didn't want to think about that. She wouldn't be here when the seasons changed and didn't want to believe that anything could mar this moment of perfection. She felt his warmth as he wound his arms about her. He was at home here. His body was easy, the way it had never been back in England.

'I don't want to go,' Nina said, turning herself in his embrace. She let her head fall onto his chest, the material of his blue shirt rough beneath her cheek. She looked up at him wondering if she really had the right to ask him to leave. His life was here. He was happy.

'We won't be apart for long,' he said. 'Just a couple of weeks, until I can tie things up here.'

Nina wanted to ask him if he was sure but was scared to hear the answer. She felt his hand gently cup her cheek and tilt her face towards his.

'Don't worry, love. We'll make it right this time.'

'Promise?'

'I promise.'

/\/\/\/\

Two Years Earlier

Nina counted the pennies in her purse, mentally calculating whether she had enough money left to buy her children dessert. She had promised them ice cream when she'd dropped them off at school; sometimes bribery was the only way she could get them to leave the house in the morning. The answer came up short so she put the Carte D'or back in the freezer and picked up the Smart Price version instead. They'd never know the difference.

Christmas wasn't far away and Nina didn't even want to think about the presents that she couldn't afford to buy. Asda had suddenly exploded with tinsel. Toys, games and DVDs leapt out of the television at every advert break complete with the exited shrieks of her children,

'We want that!'

'Only if Santa thinks you've been good.'

'We are good. Mummy. We are. We are!'

The one thing they really needed she couldn't provide. Michaela never mentioned her father. Rickie talked about him all of the time. Nina didn't know which was worse

Three months and she was too tired to hate him anymore. She no longer wanted to know what had happened in Majorca, or the reason why he had cleaned out their bank account and buggared off. All she cared about was getting through another day … and cursing her own stupidity. There were a hundred and one things she could have done to make this easier. Going back to work after having the kids would have been a start. She would have had some money of her own rather than having to negotiate her way through the maze of benefit application forms.

She had job interviews lined up but wasn't particularly hopeful. It had been six years since she'd worked full time and even then she hadn't made enough to pay a mortgage. Her qualifications seemed pitiful in the face of a new wave of school leavers all with multiple A-Levels. Nina was completely aware that, even if she did get a job, there would still be childcare fees to find.

One day at a time, she repeated to herself as she started on the walk back home. It wasn't that far. Not really. Nina swapped her bag from right to left, redistributing her load as the plastic dug into her fingers. Ten minutes walk if she was feeling energetic and taking the car was just a waste of petrol. Fuel costs were just one more thing to worry about. And she had a very long list.

Funny, she always used to feel nervous about walking anywhere on her own. Now she was almost at the point where she didn't care anymore. The winter morning was dull, heavy. A freezing fog hung in the air, dampening Nina's spirits and soaking her hair. Her feet took her up the hill, through the underpass, along the road past the bus station and across the council estate. There was no money in her purse, her credit cards were at their limit; she had nothing worth stealing unless you counted two litres of cheap ice cream and a box of cocoa pops. Even so, her steps hastened when she heard shouts behind her. She glanced back. A girl was screaming abuse at the young man who might have been her boyfriend. Nina didn't know exactly what was happening and she didn't stop to find out. She walked faster, her heels clicking on the frost scattered pavement.

She hated this. Hated feeling so helpless. It wasn't just the lack of money. Rick was missing from everything she did. A black hole had opened up in her life and she didn't know what to do about it. She hadn't realised how much of her life had centred on him; his friends, his job, his likes and dislikes. Nina didn't really know who she was anymore. And right now she didn't have the energy to find out.

Even when she got home the lassitude didn't leave her. She put the ice cream in the freezer and sat herself on the sofa. The bathroom was in desperate need of cleaning but she couldn't face it at that moment. Nina closed her eyes and lay back. Somewhere at the back of her mind she wondered if she should see a doctor. Surely it wasn't right to feel this tired all of the time? She would just sleep for a minute.

Two hours later and the frantic banging at the front door woke her. Nina wiped the drool from her face and went to answer it.

The girl outside was attractive, there was no doubt about that and Nina was suddenly aware of her own dishevelled condition. Her impromptu nap had left her with wrinkled clothes, hair sticking up in odd directions… and she'd forgotten to put any make up on that morning.

'Where is he then?'

Nina instinctively knew who she was looking for and stood firm as the girl tried to push her way into the house.

'Rick's not here,' Nina said.

'Fine. I'll wait.'

The girl sat down on the doorstep, hands resting on her stomach. Nina looked at her more closely. The baby bump was barely there. It was only visible because the girl was so skinny. Young too. She couldn't have been much older than twenty.

'You had sex with my husband,' she said.

It was amazing how calm she actually felt. Was she surprised? Not really.

'He said it was OK. He said he'd had a vasectomy.'

The girl was snivelling now. Her bravado had suddenly disappeared leaving a frightened child in the place of the angry young woman. Nina's heart softened every so slightly. Rick could be a charming bastard when he wanted something and he'd obviously wanted a younger woman.

'What's your name?' Nina asked.

'Lottie.'

'You'd better come in.'

Nina didn't really understand why she was allowing this girl into her home. Perhaps it was just the fact that they both had reason to hate her husband. She led Lottie through to the kitchen.

'Tea?' she offered.

'Yeah, why not?'

Busying herself with the kettle gave Nina time to think. At first she was reluctant to admit the truth. Did she really want to involve a complete stranger in her marital woes? This was beyond awkward.

'Rick's gone,' she said, handing Lottie a mug.

'Where?'

'I don't know. He left me, left the kids.'

'Kids? How many have you got?'

'Two. A boy and a girl.'

A pause.

'He didn't mention any kids.'

'No. I don't suppose he did. Sugar? '

'No … thanks.'

Lottie took a gulp of her tea.

'One of his mates did try to stop him,' she said.

'Which one?'

For some reason it was terribly important.

'Blonde hair. Kind of chubby.'

Quinn. Nina supposed she should have been grateful, but she wasn't. He'd tried but that wasn't good enough. All his talk of fighting for love and yet he'd still let this happen.

'I can't afford to have this kid by myself,' Lottie said.

But Nina couldn't spare her any sympathy.

'Then don't have it.'

'I'm Catholic. Me mum would kill me if I got rid of it.'

'Right.'

Which also explained the lack of birth control. This was a fucking mess. Lottie wiped her nose on her sleeve, sniffing loudly,

'The sex weren't even that great.'

'Oh I'm sorry. If I'd have known I'd have trained him better.'

Nina's sarcasm wasn't wasted on Lottie who smiled through her tears.

'Does he always do that thing with his pants?' she said. 'I mean, what's that all about?'

Oh God … Nina remembered now. How Rick would pretend he was one of the blokes from 'The Full Monty' because he knew she had a thing for Robert Carlisle. She couldn't help laughing at how pathetic it had been.

'I have no bloody idea,' she said and went to get Lottie another cup of tea.

/\/\/\/\

'You should have married that other one… what was his name?'

'Mum… '

'Tim? Jim…?'

'Mum.'

'Quinn… that was it. Lovely young man. So polite.'

Nina closed her eyes, wishing that Mrs. Braithwaite hadn't tripped over her cat and broken her hip. Asking her mother to baby sit had been a last resort.

'Clever too, didn't he go off to university?'

'I don't remember. Mum, I've really got to go.'

'Is that what you're wearing?'

Ignoring her mother, Nina scooped up her handbag. She didn't want to consider that Primark's version of Jennifer Aniston's latest little black dress might actually look better on a younger woman … or a size zero American actress. Nina tried not to care that she was neither of those things.

'I don't know what time I'll be back but the spare room's all made up for you.'

'Should you be going out at all? You've only just got the job and they don't pay teaching assistants that much.'

'Mum… '

'And with that woman…'

'I'm going.

'I don't know how the two of you can be such good friends.'

'Good night.'

Sometimes, Nina realised, the only way to deal with her mother was to leave the room and hope she'd stop talking of her own accord.

One night. Was that too much to ask? Nina just wanted to get out of the house and forget about her responsibilities for a few hours. It was one of the reasons she left her wedding ring behind. Her finger felt naked without it but she had to get used to the fact … Rick wasn't coming back. There was no point in pretending to be married anymore.

Did all parents take this much delight in pointing out their offspring's mistakes? Nina didn't know the answer but she swore it was something she would never do to Michaela or Rickie. Funny how her mum was suddenly so fond of Quinn? She had hated him when they'd been going out. Rick, on the other hand, had been the wonderful blue-eyed boy… the man who hadn't been responsible for corrupting her little girl; who had saved her from a life of debauchery by putting her in a white dress and taking her down the aisle.

And of course the fact that Rick had run out was now all her fault. Her mother had never said so directly but Nina could feel it. She would never believe that their marriage had been in trouble before Rick had vanished in Majorca.

'It's the sex, isn't it?'

'What?'

'They have toys for that kind of thing, you know. You don't need a man.'

'Mother!'

'Better than the real thing … or so I've been told.'

Thankfully, Nina's phone beeped and she looked down to see the text message.

'Taxi's here. I'll see you later.'

She dropped a quick kiss on her mother's cheek before picking up her keys and hurrying out of the door.

It was a relief to speak a normal adult, Nina realised as she was driven into town. The taxi driver was garrulous but she welcomed his inconsequential chatter. By the time he dropped her off outside of the pub she knew all about his wife, his kids and the dog that had broken through the fence into the neighbour's garden. For once she didn't mind.

/\/\/\/

'How about him?' Lottie gestured towards the bar.

The place was heaving and Nina couldn't even identify the man who had caught Lottie's eye. She had to shout to make herself heard over the thumping base.

'I'm not here to pick up a bloke!'

'Well they're not going to be looking at me are they?'

Lottie caressed her belly, her face breaking into a tender smile. For a

Moment, Nina almost felt jealous. Then she remembered the seventeen hours of labour she'd endured with Rickie. Never again, she sworn at the time but now she wondered. What would it be like? The she shook her head and dismissed that crazy notion. She was already forty; not the age to be starting all over again.

'So … working girl now. Are you gonna get the champers in?' Lottie said.

'I might be able to afford a Lambrini.'

Lottie made a disgusted face.

'Mine's a larger shandy.'

Nina just looked at her.

'I haven't had a bloody drink in six months thanks to your husband… And low alcohol stuff tastes like shite.'

Nina fought her way to the bar, recalling a time when she had thought such places were the ultimate in sophistication. The barman, however, seemed to be more interested in chatting up barely clothed girls rather than the twenty pound note Nina was waving in his face. It wasn't until the man standing next to her plucked at the barman's shirt sleeve that he deigned to turn round and take notice. Nina nodded her thanks.

'Ian,' the man said, introducing himself.

His accent was soft and Welsh. Nina rather liked it.

'Nina.'

She smiled at him, feeling colour rising in her cheeks as she waited for the barman to finish pouring the drinks. Ian must have been in his mid thirties. Heavy set but not fat. He had dark hair and the nicest brown eyes that Nina had ever seen.

'I'll get these,' he said, handing over his money before she could stop him.

'Actually … uh … Ian, I'm here with someone so…'

Nina gestured towards the table she had been sharing with Lottie only to see that someone else had taken her seat. And that someone currently had his tongue stuck down the girl's throat.

'Oh,' Nina said.

Ian laughed.

'My lot are over there,' he said gesturing towards a rowdy party of younger men who were currently occupying one corner of the bar. A roar went up each time a vaguely attractive woman walked past them. Obviously they were lying in wait for a stripper.

'Bill from work. It's his stag night.'

'And won't Bill from work be expecting you to join in?'

'I don't think Bill from work's going to care.'

Bill, it seemed, was too far gone to care about anything. Ian pointed to his mineral water,

'We started at lunchtime. I'm the designated driver.'

'I hope the wedding's not tomorrow,' Nina smiled.

Ian's hand brushed briefly against hers and Nina felt herself blush again. He gestured towards Lottie,

'Do you think she'd notice if you talked to me for a bit?'

/\/\/\/\

Nina couldn't remember the last time she'd been out so late. The eastern sky was silvery bright. A new day. Creeping in, hoping not to disturb her mum, Nina felt a bit like a teenager again in the first flush of … something. Ian was nice, she decided. A bit young for her but even so, she wasn't looking for anything serious. Perhaps giving him her phone number had been a bit rash but she didn't honestly expect him to call. She let herself into the house as quietly as she could, expecting her mother to be waiting in the hall. What she wasn't prepared for was the small figure huddled against the wall watching the door.

'Michaela?'

'Mummy?'

The little girl flung herself into her mother's arms.

'Gran made me go to bed but I didn't want to. I waited and waited for you to come home Mummy.'

'I'm here now sweetheart.'

'I thought you were gone forever and ever… like … like…'

Michaela's words dissolved into heavy sobs but Nina knew what her daughter had been trying to say.

'Like Daddy?'

The little girl nodded.

'Listen to me Michaela, I will never, ever leave you. Do you understand?'

Another nod.

'I will never do what Daddy did.'

'Promise?'

'I promise.'

Nina scooped her daughter up and carried her up the stairs. Michael was almost too big now but Nina didn't want to think that the time was coming when she could no longer carry her to bed or heal her troubles with a hug and a kiss.

Nina didn't go to bed that night, choosing instead to sit with her children, wedging herself between the narrow beds to watch while they slept. These moments were precious. She realised that now. Two hours passed before she finally moved. Nina stretched her aching body and moved quietly from the room. A shower and a change of clothes could wait. What she really wanted now was coffee.

She picked up the mail from the mat, automatically flicking through the mass of bills and flyers. She stopped short when she found the postcard. It was beautiful; blindingly blue water, white-yellow sand, a wave in mid crash against a rock. Paradise. Curious, Nina flipped it over. The postmark was Paris but the picture didn't look like any part of France she'd ever seen.

The handwriting was familiar. Worryingly neat. Every i dotted and t crossed.

'Dear Nina…'

Shit. Nina wanted to rip the postcard into a hundred tiny pieces. Eight months of nothing and now this.

'I haven't seen Rick. I don't know where he is and if I did I'm not sure that I would tell you. You're probably missing him but there's something you need to know. He slept with someone when we were in Majorca. I'm sorry, Nina, you were right about him.'

'Tell me something I don't know,' she whispered to herself as she tossed the card into the bin. It didn't matter. It shouldn't matter. She made coffee, strong, black. It tasted foul.

Heavy footsteps on the stairs, adult, not the fairy like tread of her children. Nina turned to face her mother's ire,

'Out all night! At your age!'

Ignoring her mother, Nina picked the postcard out of the bin, scraped off the potato peelings and stuck it on the fridge; almost hidden amongst the drawings, paintings and gold stars.

'Coffee?' she offered.