It had been a long cold day. Mom had had to turn the heating down this winter to save money, ever since my father had cut her off she’d been showing signs of slight desperation. The heating was yet another sign.

I tired to help out where I could always silently cursing my father, who could more than afford to keep us in the, well no I won’t call it luxury but comfort is a good enough description. I mowed lawns on the weekends or washed cars, earning a decent amount of money actually, but it just wasn’t enough to cover the household bills, so my mother had put our house on the market.

This evening the temperatures outside had dropped well below freezing but as this was one of the few times this happened where we lived my mother refused to turn the heating on. So we sat dressed in woollies and blankets enjoying a quiet evening in front of the tv. Finally my mother decided to go to bed and told me to come too and share her bet with her. I was surprised, we hadn’t shared the same bed for six years, not since I was ten and I had innocently placed my hand on her breast when we slept. My mother had woken up and yelled at me that time. Now however I knew why, then it wasn’t quite so understandable.

“But Mom I don’t wear any PJ’s.” I said trying to get out of this. I knew the duvet on my bed would be lovely and warm tonight, after I’d spent enough time in it to raise it’s temperature.