Joy believed in signs. So when Jamie shoved his sister into the TV cabinet, sending the Xbox crashing onto the floor, case cracked and innards spilling out, she took it as a sign. She resisted the urge to shout, instead sending the kids upstairs to finish getting ready for school whilst she scooped up the broken games console. She couldn't afford to replace it. Maybe Greg could fix it? She’d ask him on Saturday when he collected the kids for his weekly visit.

Halfway to school and the heavens opened. Another sign. Joy had left her umbrella at home, again, and they were all soaked through by the time they got into the playground. Joy could feel the weight of disapproval from the other mums, their kids all decked out in the latest Boden raincoats and matching wellies. Staring down the Boden mums, Joy grabbed a kiss from both of her children ‘Have a great day’ she breathed in their damp sweet smell, ‘Love you guys’, but they were gone, lost in a sea of book bags and lunchboxes.

Bad luck always came in three’s, so when Mr Price summoned Joy into his office before lunch, she was hoping for bad news, willing her quota to filled as quickly as possible. Instead, he praised her on her recent efforts at work, offered her a small pay rise, and management of the much coveted Johnson’s account. Joy didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so instead clutched the Johnson’s lever arch case file to her chest, whispered a thank you to her boss and returned to her desk.

Her sandwich from the cafe at lunchtime was disappointingly sparse on chicken, but even Joy knew that was pushing it as a ‘bad sign.’ The bus was unusually punctual and she managed to get a seat for first time in as long as she could remember. Even at the hospital, everyone was, for once, punctual and efficient and polite. By the time Joy was seated in the chair opposite her oncologist, she already knew what he was going to say. Bad luck. In three’s. Always.

She decided to take a taxi home. Sod the expense. The meter wasn’t working properly so the driver let her off the fare ‘Consider it your lucky day’ he smiled at her. Her mum had picked the kids up after school, and as Joy walked up the front path she could see them all, Mum, Poppy and Jamie, cuddled up on the sofa, laughing at cartoons on the TV. Joy felt a lump rise in her throat but swallowed it back down. They all turned as she opened the door, the kids jumping up and running to her, arms clutching at her legs. Her Mum stared at her, hands clutched to her chest, ‘Well?’ she asked.

‘All good.’ Joy nodded, the tears she had held back all day finally surfacing, spilling down her cheeks. ‘All good.’

‘Mummy, mummy’ Jamie yanked on Joy’s arm. ‘I ripped my cowboy jimjams, look’ He pointed to a small split in the seam of his favourite pyjamas. Joy reached down and scooped him up. ‘Don’t worry baby, mummy can fix that. It looks like you’ve had all your bad luck for the day.’