Laura spent the first part of the week researching chat lines, and was pleased with the amount of information she found. The only problem was, she had to write it all down because she couldn't store it on Paul's computer in case he found it. By the time he got home at seven o'clock on Wednesday night, she'd filled at least eight pages with notes on relevant web sites so she could share it all with Karen and Jenny on Friday.

'I bought you a present, Mum,' Paul called out to her after he took off his hoody and dumped it on the hall chair.

Laura looked surprised. Paul had only acknowledged the need to buy her presents on her birthday and at Christmas since Colin died. The idea of a present for neither of those occasions was the last thing she expected.

When he came through to the living room and pulled out the box from a carrier bag, Laura's jaw dropped open. He'd bought her a new laptop. Small enough to fit in one of her larger handbags, but big enough to do everything a computer could do (according to Paul) She had no idea how much it cost, but whatever it was, Laura was sure he couldn't afford it. She'd looked at the price of laptops when her outdated computer eventually gave up the ghost over six months before, and the cheapest she'd found then was over three hundred pounds.

'Don't worry about it, Mum,' he assured Laura when she voiced her concerns. 'I've been saving some of the vouchers I get at work in case I wanted to buy something special. I just used them to get this instead. After Sunday, I thought it was only fair. Now you won't have to wait until I'm out or at work if you want to go on line.'

Laura cringed when she remembered what had happened on Sunday night. Paul came back a bit earlier than expected while she was still researching the subject of chat lines on his computer. She thought she'd closed all the tabs she opened earlier when she heard him come in, but she only realised afterwards, there were still a couple left open. One look at the history would have told him what she'd been researching while he was out, not that he said anything to her at the time.

'Paul, I'm sorry, but...'

He interrupted her with a wave of his hand. 'I just thought it would be easier for you to use Wi-Fi when you speak to your friend from America on Skype, that's all. It must be a bit frustrating having to wait for me to come off my computer all the time. Now you can go on line whenever you want, and from a personal point of view, I don't have to feel guilty.'

Laura was glad she told Paul about her weekly chats with Jack. At least she'd been honest about that. After she thanked him profusely, Laura finished making dinner while Paul set the laptop up for her. She was very relieved when he put it in front of her to type in her chosen password, especially when he turned his back to her while she did.

Whatever his reasons for buying it, Paul had given Laura the means to not only do her research, but to take it to Karen's house on Friday. Boy, did she love her son...


**********

By midday on Thursday, Karen was bored out of her mind. Whilst she appreciated the huge effort the kids were making so she could put her feet up, she wasn't used to having nothing to do. After she felt she'd done enough research as she lay on the sofa, she resorted to watching daytime TV for the first time in years. The antibiotics the doctor gave her on Monday were already clearing up the cellulitis on her leg, and hadn't made her feel sick, but Karen had chosen to ignore his advice about mixing them with alcohol.

'Time for another wee brandy coffee, Karen, 'she decided as she tried to convince herself a liquid lunch would be less calorific while she watched a cookery programme. Unfortunately, when she ran the kitchen tap to fill the kettle, a puddle of water formed at her feet.

'What the...? She moaned as it started to spread across the floor.

Still determined to have her brandy masquerading as something more respectable, Karen ignored the crisis until after she'd made her coffee and had a few calming sips. She then grabbed her mobile to use as a torch when she looked under the sink to see if she could find out where the water was coming from.

'Shit!' she cried out when she saw all the mouse droppings. Obviously they'd chewed up the waste pipe, but the damage wasn't visible because of the board attached to the back of the unit.

'You bloody, useless cat!' she shouted at Molly, their eight-year-old tabby.

Molly jumped from the window ledge where she'd been sunning herself, before making a hasty retreat towards the cat flap. Karen was just about to berate her again as she shot past her legs, but she remembered with a guilty start that she couldn't really blame Molly for what had happened. A cat can only do its job if it gets the chance, and she'd inadvertently locked her in the shed for three days the week before. That event had coincided with the temperature plummeting dramatically. It came as no surprise that the mice had made a bee-line for the warmth of the house.

Karen took another slurp of her drink while she tried to work out what to do next. So much for putting her leg up. The only way she could get to the pipes behind the sink was to pull out the dishwasher, and it was impossible to shift because it was still full of dishes from the day before. She had no choice but to unload it and take everything through to the utility room. Twenty minutes later, they were all washed. She left them to drip-dry while she went to investigate the pipes behind the dishwasher. Easier said than done. The dishwasher hadn't been moved for years. It took her ten minutes to wriggle it out to a point where there was enough space for her to squeeze in behind it. Armed with duct tape and a tea towel, she located the hole the mice had made, and wrapped the tape around it after she'd dried it off.

'Who needs men!' she said triumphantly when she stood up after she backed out of the hole and turned on the tap.

'I do!' she groaned, as the puddle started to spread across the kitchen floor again.