Pulling up outside a house with a car full of boxes, I turned to my children, William, then eight, and Maddie, five. ‘Are you excited to see our new home?’ I asked them. ‘Yes!’ they chimed, nodding with enthusiasm.
To William and Maddie, moving home felt like a new adventure, but they were too young to understand the desperate situation we were really in, and as they jumped out of the car, I painted on a smile to hide my worries.
It was April 2013 and our family home had just been repossessed. As a struggling, single mum, I’d failed to keep up the mortgage repayments and I felt so ashamed because this wasn’t how I’d expected life
