It was Friday evening that my girl called to say she was coming home. I tried to act calm, almost indifferent, but I couldn't. I spun round the house like a 3 year old on a treasure hunt.

She, of course, came home for a farewell party as the last of her friends leave, this one bound for Oxford, and everyone aware that it may be some time before they see him again.

I held her hand as we watched Friends on loop. It was so lovely to count her fingers and toes. To see her smiling face and understand that she has come to no harm being out of my sight.

I feel calmer now, more re-assured. I feel like I can stop giving over so much of my day to thinking and fretting about her. She has gained confidence and is holding her own in a flat of 12. She is meeting the challenges of her new environment and not being shaken by them. I feel proud.

We all enjoyed her being around this weekend, and my boy has arranged a day with her in Glasgow during mid-term. On leaving she confronted the boys about their constant football chat and suggested they given me more consideration! I look forward to seeing what they make of that.