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out for years and sometimes wondered if it was worth it. No matter how many hours or thousands of dollars she spent, there was a seemingly endless stream of troubled and confused kids every day.
    But she couldn’t, wouldn’t, stop going; stop helping, stop looking. She just knew that one day she’d find what she was looking for.
     
    Mim moved into the chattering café throng. Sidestepping tables full of business meetings and gossiping women she felt triumphant. Yes, I am fine, she thought. It’s going to be a lovely day and I feel just great.
    She popped into the ladies and locked herself into a cubicle, sitting on a closed toilet lid. It wasn’t her bladder that needed attention, she just wanted a few minutes’solitude. She took a deep cleansing breath in, but suddenly it turned into a ragged, gasping sob, and before she knew it she was engulfed in a surge of despair. The ugly walls of the cubicle blurred through her tears as she clenched her teeth and rocked back and forth on the toilet. She folded her arms across her body and dug her nails into her arms in a desperate bid to pull herself together.
    ‘God, oh God, it’s just all too much,’ she whispered desperately. James’s angry face flashed into her mind and she remembered his words: ‘Fuck you too, princess.’
    This morning’s phone call had done little to erase the image.
    No, I’m not a princess, she thought bitterly. Just because I want standards for our family; want the best for our family. Doesn’t he understand that?
    Hiccoughing back a sob, she clutched herself tighter and fought for control.
    Suddenly her mobile beeped with a message. It was just the jolt she needed. With sheer will she swallowed down her panic and quietened her sobs. This will all work out, she told herself. She exited the cubicle, washed her hands at the basin and restored her foundation. We’ve had bad fights before.
    Not as big as this, though, her mind whispered.
    It’s so much harder than I’d imagined, she thought to herself as she remembered her wedding day. It’s fascinating how much money, time and effort goes into that one day of splendour, yet nothing is invested in preparing those two young people for a lifetime together. If I’d spent as much time researching the male psyche as I did at dress fittings I wouldn’t have been stumbling along blind for these last ten years, surprised and sometimes horrified at every male quirk that comes out of him.
    Back then I actually cared about what china was going on the registry, what style of silverware. Did I think I wasembarking on a life of endless glamorous dinner parties? Now my mission in dinnerware is to find the perfect plastic tumbler that is narrow enough for little hands yet not tippy.
    And the amount of money and angst spent on feeding those two hundred people that night at the reception, half of whom we haven’t seen since. I can’t believe I cared so much about whether to serve quail or not. If I’d known the reality of entering a lifetime of preparing three to five meals a day for the fussiest individuals on the planet I may have cared less about the wedding banquet.
    But we were so much in love. The world was all about finery, silk gowns, white Rolls Royces and an endless honeymoon that was hour after hour of surf, sand and sex.
    It’s very easy to be in love when there are absolutely no worries in your world, she reflected. The most controversial issue in her life at the time was whether to wear ivory or white.
    James had not had a care in the world. He laughed at absolutely anything, he was relaxed and he had the most magnetic personality. Everybody enjoyed his company, but she most of all. She remembered with a smile the long lazy lunches down at the Portsea pub with their mates.
    Now when he walks in he just represents more work for me. No, that’s crazy, she corrected herself. He’s still fun. We’ve just been so busy we’ve both forgotten who we are, or who we were. It’s all so hard, nothing