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house , so I head downstairs to grab a bite to eat before I embark on the Christmas shopping I’m dreading.
    Cerys sits alone at the kitchen table, back to me. I ignore her and rummage around in the fridge for something to eat. There ’s leftover shepherd’s pie from last night and my mouth waters at the thought of Mum’s home cooking. Flipping the lid on the plastic container, I shove it into the microwave, catching sight of Cerys as I walk around the table.
    Oh shit, she ’s crying. Again .
    “ You okay?” I ask, hoping she says ‘yes’.
    “ No.”
    Ah. Crap. “Anything I can do?”
    “ No.” This is followed by face crumpling. I don’t want to deal with this, but her red eyes and tear-streaked face pull at a hurt of my own. More than that, I don’t want Cerys to be sad.
    “ Did something happen?” I ask.
    “ I’m living with someone else’s family, ruining their Christmas, and I have nowhere else to go.”
    “ You’re not ruining anyone’s Christmas!” I pull a chair out and sit opposite her. “Mum wouldn’t ask you to stay if she thought that.”
    “ She just felt sorry for me after Craig kicked me out.”
    “ Craig? Is he your other half?”
    Cerys studies the table intently. “Ella’s dad. Yeah.”
    “ But how can he kick you out of your own home?”
    She wipes her face with the heel of her palm and sniffs. “Easy. He did.”
    “ Why though? Why would he do that? Can’t you go home and tell him to get the fuck out instead?”
    “ I told Craig I wasn’t happy in our relationship and he lost it. He told me to leave and took my keys. I can’t even get in the house anymore.”
    “ What the fuck? He made his four year old daughter homeless?”
    “ He doesn’t care about her anyway...” Cerys heaves in a breath and the sobbing starts again. “She wants to see him for Christmas.” She pushes her phone across the table. “I just tried reasoning with him, waste of fucking time.”
    I arch an eyebrow at her language but my heart hurts , for Cerys and for her little girl. She doesn’t deserve this. Some fucking dad, he is.
    “ So I’m homeless, jobless, and I can’t figure out what I’m supposed to do. My parents won’t help; they said I brought all this on myself by getting pregnant in the first place and that I need to sort out my own mess.”
    Her over-sharing shocks me even more and as her tears continue to flow, my anger at how someone can treat Cerys like this grows. I want to help her. How? I don ’t know but the little girl watching TV in the other room needs someone to sort this out.
    The microwave beeps but I ignore my meal. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”
    She sniffs. “Christmas miracle?” she says then laughs softly before carefully wiping her face with a tissue. “Actually, can you run me into town. I can get the bus though, it’s no problem.”
    For the first time since I came into the kitchen, she looks at me. Behind her smile is the lost look of someone who doesn ’t know where to turn or what to do. Would other people cope the way Cerys does? I had no idea the situation was so bad, the depth of their problems hidden from me by Cerys’s determination that life goes on for her daughter.
    My plan to avoid her today has flipped. Anything I can do to help her, I will. “Of course, I was going out anyway. Christmas shopping.”
    I grimace and Cerys smiles, but not with her eyes.
     
    ****
     
    How the hell I expected to find Christmas gifts in town, I have no idea. After a failed attempt at Christmas shopping, I hang around for Cerys despite her protests she can take the bus and I shouldn’t wait.
    The journey home is silent apart from Ella singing something about snowmen. One line. Repeatedly. Thank fuck the journey is short. Maybe taxi service is something I ’ll cross off my list of ‘things I can do to help’.
    We arrive outside Mum and D ad’s and I park in the driveway.
    “ Thank you, Liam,” says Cerys, unbuckling her seatbelt.
    “