All the different SHADES

I started running in my teens. It helped after Mum died, especially if I’d just had a ‘teen strop’ with Dad (his words).

We loved each other to bits, me and Dad, but that only made our confrontations more combustible – ‘You only hurt the ones you love’ and all that.

I kept up my habit of running when I moved to London after uni. By then, Dad and I were on an even keel. Back home, he was happy working as a joiner. I visited him every other weekend.

Then, three years into that routine, I learned about Jan.

‘I’ve met someone, Lucy.’

Despite the hopeful smile, he looked anxious.

‘We’ve been taking things slowly, so I didn’t want to tell you until we felt we had a future. I’d never try to replace your mum and I never expected to find happiness again. Jan is looking forward to meeting you and if we can arrange something soon…’

‘Stop, stop, stop!’ I yelled inside my head while reacting outwardly with grown-up restraint, mostly by asking questions: ‘Is