Janet took a deep breath to calm her nerves as she stepped through the rear entrance of the vast supermarket. When she was younger she never imagined that she'd be starting work as a lowly checkout operator at the age of 42. But then, she also never imagined that on her first day of work, she would pin to her chest a name badge that read 'Janet' instead of 'John'.

If you look exactly like your sister, never say "yes" when she asks you for help...

My husband and I are blessed with five children evenly spaced out with two years in between them. They really are good kids but sometimes I wish that the two oldest girls would have a bit less of drama in their relationships. Well, the oldest one, 19, left for college a few weeks ago and I was spending a “girls’ Friday night” with Cheryl, my 17 year old daughter since my husband was away on business as usual. The other kids were in their rooms, I thought. Cheryl and I had been watching romantic comedies and chatting until well past midnight when I heard a car drive away which was strange since our neighborhood is very calm at night. Soon afterwards the front door was slowly and carefully opened and Mike, 15, tiptoed in. Well, in those shoes that really was the only angle his feet could be in. In the few seconds before he noticed us I could see from his satisfied face that he had had a very good evening. The smeared lipstick on his otherwise immaculately made up face confirmed this. I had not had the least suspicion of his leanings! Where did I go wrong?

Hopefully this isn’t too soon after the Grenfell Tower disaster to seem disrespectful. I actually started writing it a year ago, and only picked it up to try and finish it a few months back. Then a lot of people died in London and I put it back on the shelf with all the many unfinished stories I seem to have generated recently. I feel I need to get something published again though, and I hate having all these loose ends floating about in my life. I have one story that’s just topped 200,000 words with a couple of chapters to go, which I’m hoping to finish this summer. Haven’t decided what I’m going to do with that yet, but in the meantime, I’d love to hear what you think of this one.

This was just a regular day in my life, I arrived at my house after school and changed out of my school uniform into regular clothes. It was always the same routine, I would change, then help my mom to set the table, and we would eat together with my father. Then as I finished eating with my parents the doorbell rang, I went to answer the door.

The Other Woman – Part Four

Continuing the story of how a wife meets the other woman in their lives, who happens to be her husband.

This story is dedicated to my friend and fellow author Warm Hearted, who has called me his cheerleader. We have become good friends and confidants, sharing comments and ideas on our stories as well as messaging and emailing each other regularly.

I lead us through a back door in the nightclub. “This club has a deal with us,” I tell Kelly. “We provide security and often bring ourselves here. So, they will let us in, and they will watch out for us. They will get us waters if they know a man is ordering us a drink. Lots of men will come here, looking for someone like us.” We walk in, both feeling the electricity and sex in the room. I order the two of us waters. I hand her the water the water, and say, “Your cryx gives you considerable power over men. But avoid alcohol while wearing it. Alcohol will even the playing field.

“Urgh…”I groan as I’m awoken from a blissful slumber by a loud knocking on my front door. “Stop fucking banging…” I grab my phone to check the clock, only to roll my eyes when I discover that it’s gone 11am. Fortunately, today is Wednesday, meaning I’m not at uni today, but that also means that none of my friends are either, as I discover when Ophelia (who has obviously already been up for ages) opens the door.

“Helloooo!” Katie giggles loud enough for me to hear in my bedroom. “Flying solo today then, Ophelia?”

"Umm..." I mumble, not breaking eye contact with my friend for one moment.

“Steph?” Kayla repeats, obviously stunned by my unexpected action.

I’m innocent; it’s all BarbieLee’s fault! I blame her, she forced me, she twisted my arm. Well, not really but she dangled a twisted idea in front of my nose so of course I just had to grab it and add a twist or two. There was no way I could avoid it, could I? You believe me, don’t you?

Friday evening. I hear the door open and my son enter.

”DAD! It’s getting cold so I need warmer tights now. Could we get some tomorrow?” he shouts before quickly going upstairs. He is always quick to get out of his school uniform blazer and skirt. He keeps complaining about the skirt every day. I sympathize with him but he really has himself to blame. No matter, he’s a good boy, or so I thought until yesterday!