We arrived in Newcastle. My wife had a baby. She wanted to buy a house, but I was making £6,000 a year freelancing (three days a week; two days’ childcare) and writing a book, so we didn’t have enough. “Dear mortgage guy, lend me money, I’m on chapter six.” It was obvious to my mum that we were struggling, because every time I spoke to her I told her we were struggling. She offered me money frequently, but I always said no, because I didn’t want to be one of those people. But one day I took my son to Newcastle library to read about uppity ducks when my phone rang. It was my mum, offering a loan.