For the past three years, I lived on the tropical paradise, Phuket. This was my life:

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This August morning, which felt more like November or February, I woke up to heavy grey skies in London.

My friend Nico gave me a lift across town. He has a plush car, but there is no escaping the traffic and the greyness. It was only 7.30am, and people already looked tired in their faces.

“How about a quick breakfast?” At this time in the morning, it was either the luxurious hotels or transport cafes. I couldn’t face chi-chi coffee shops where bananas cost 55p each.

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So we stopped at a “caff” on Mile End Road. Caffs like this one are called greasy spoons for a reason: the food is greasy.

As I chased a greasy egg round the plate, Nico smirked at me, drinking his double expresso that looked like dirty drainwater.

“What are you smirking about?” I demanded.

“Am just reminding you of the morning we sat in the boulangerie in Fontviele. Blue skies, azure sea and yummy French croissants,” he grinned. “Let me show you the photos.”

“We must be mad,” he mused. “To pay all this money to live in London.”

And then he dropped me off at my children’s home. My youngest is sound asleep, opening the door for me with heavy eyelids. She looked like a six-year-old. And when she gave me a sleepy hug, my heart burst with love: she still has her signature baby smell.  Yes, this is what I came home for, my children ❤ ….. I think love is the sun within us, and it shines on grey days and dark nights.

Photo: my youngest child, she of eternal sunshine.

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