We were on a family holiday in Marbella when yet again it hit me: I can’t trust my own mother – ever.
She’d offered to look after my seven-year-old daughter so I could visit the local market with my teenager. But when I got back to the villa, to my horror, Mum wasn’t there.
Instead, she had left Lily with her Spanish boyfriend, someone I’d only met a handful of times. Even worse, this was despite me repeatedly telling Mum not to leave Lily alone with him.
Aged 48, I felt a familiar surge of rage coursing through my body. Yet again, she
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