Sometime in April 2010.....

I’m at home, a day off, and decide to pull my house apart to clean and tidy. I love my little home. It’s a glorious day, bright and sunny. Work has been manic of late so things have slipped at home a little. To try and paint a picture, I work four days a week in an office, I have a cleaning job, plus I do some other office work on a Monday. It suits me right now. I’m a single mum to two boys, and although the youngest, Ethan, is ten, my hours mean I can drop him off and pick him up from school every day.  I soon whizz round and get things done, the last of my chores is to put the washing away. The pile of odd socks is growing rapidly and resembles a mountain, so while I’m in the mood I decide to have a go at pairing them up. I find a matching pair, one in the mountain and one in Joshua's, my eldest sons, underwear box in his wardrobe.  I put them together, but can feel there is something inside the one from the box. I unravel it wondering what is inside, to find a bag, a tiny clear plastic one, about two inches square, with flaky stuff inside. My stomach churns; my instinct tells me what it is. I know its drugs of some sort and am stunned, which quickly turns into a mix of frustration and anger.

He is only seventeen. How dare he? I Google it, I Google everything – go to images, and to my disbelief it’s cannabis. Not only has he been stupid and naive enough to have it even smoke it. He has been disrespectful to bring it into our home, and then hide it in the room he shares with his younger brother. The music I was listening to while doing my chores abruptly goes off, I’m simmering, seething. Determined to have this out with him face to face, I don’t allow myself to text or call him – I will think about this, and wait. I do call Dave though, as he is the boys Dad. He is understandably upset and angry too, but I need to deal with Joshua, my way.