In late autumn 2015, I woke up shivering at two in the morning and saw the first frost of winter sparkling on the bonnet of my car. It was a sight I found terrifying. I was homeless, sleeping in my car and, instead of looking forward to Christmas like everyone else, my focus was on staying alive in the cold to come. It was like staring down a tunnel with no light at the end.
Rewind a year from that night and no one would have believed I’d end up in such desperate straits. Back then, I was living with my husband and two sons, then 15 and 17, in a beautiful part of Cornwall.
