So life went on. Mother’s health deteriorated, slowly at first, then more rapidly, and Nick got married and moved out. Naturally I slipped into the carer role, and in some ways I quite liked it. I felt needed and useful, and very secure. The one or two friends I had from school kept telling me how good I was, how they could never do what I was doing. It seemed to give me a status, almost as if I had a husband and a home like the rest of them.