It was a school morning, and as nine-year-old Lisa trudged downstairs she was surprised to be met with a delicious smell. Yay, pancakes! Her mouth was watering as she burst into the kitchen, but she stopped abruptly when she saw her stepfather Dylan and not her mother standing at the cooker.
‘Morning, love,’ said Mum. She was sitting drinking tea, her pregnant belly so huge it nudged up against the table. ‘What would you like on your pancakes?’
‘I’ll just have cereal.’ Lisa was aware of Mum and Dylan exchanging glances.
‘But you love pancakes,’ coaxed Mum.
‘I don’t love them today,’ said Lisa, reaching for the cornflakes. She knew she was being a brat. But just because Dylan made the pancakes didn’t mean she had to eat them.
‘All the more for us then,’ said Dylan after an awkward pause.
He offered one to Mum but she shook her head, nibbling on some toast. ‘I’d love to but I’ll only get heartburn. Lisa, love, I have a hospital appointment so your dad’s picking you up from school.’
Lisa loved
