Uphill All the Way by Sue Moorcroft

fielding toddlers as they made a break for freedom and getting teenaged girls to pause in their chewing and smile !
    While he worked, Judith noticed, Adam managed to forget about keeping his damaged hand out of sight. He used it as he needed it, and adapted over what he had to.
    Adam managed the Herculean task of completing the shoot before everyone got totally cheesed off, with a mixture of his charm and Judith's bullying.
    Then they had to get all the gear back in the car, trying to avoid too much 'help' from over enthusiastic and sticky young hands. But, eventually, they were able to shut themselves back in the car and drive away.
    And when Judith woke up, she was in Lavender Row.
    Groaning, she flexed her stiff neck. Her mouth was dry, her eyes were gritty, and her hair was flattened over one eye. 'Are we home?'
    'Yes, wake up. I'll show you how I download the pix.' Adam threw the splint from his hand into the centre console, apparently as fresh as he had been at seven this morning. 'And then run you through the paperwork.'
    'Paperwork?' She trailed indoors behind him.
    He pushed into the sitting room. 'My assistant does most of my paperwork. And some phone calls. It's in the day rate, OK? I need an invoice for the month, so you mark the days you work in that black diary, and at the end of the month type an invoice on the computer, print it out and put it on that pile.'
    She blinked at her temporary assistant status being so casually extended. 'But you'll be advertising, soon?'
    'Yes, yes. Now, downloading the images isn't rocket science, but it does have to be done correctly or you can lose the work or mess up the settings on the camera...'
    And when she finally left, after he'd shown her how to download and organise the images, explained his computer system and then carried his camera stuff upstairs while she raised invoices and posted them to the appropriate spreadsheet - the paperwork was a doddle because Adam was organised and everything was up to date - it was turned six o'clock. She was now going on shoots with him on Tuesday (a donkey sanctuary), Friday (girl who'd done well in Pop Idol revisiting her old school), and Thursday and Friday of next week (a couple who'd married each other three times and a windmill turned sumptuous dwelling).
    'Just until I advertise,' as he repeated.
    So she ought to be able to keep the wolf from the door while she looked around for something else.
    Although it didn't alter the fact that she'd still lost a rather substantial nest egg.
    And Giorgio.
    Weary from her busy day, pain swept through her anew, making her limbs weighty and slow. She drove home in a fog of misery. And then, groan, groan, she discovered that Molly and Frankie were engaged in a teeth-clenched row. Just when all she wanted to do was flop down. Creeping upstairs, she showered, shut herself away in her room with her radio and book and tried to ignore increasingly unignorable shouts and slams. Eventually, she put on her shoes and slipped back out of the front door.
    Not having an abundance of places to go, she opted for visiting her mother.
    One of the carers in a lilac overall showed Judith to Wilma's pink-and-white room, where she'd sought the comfort of Coronation Street. 'Hello, dear,' said Wilma uncertainly, rocking her tubular aluminium walking stick on its three grey rubber feet. 'I'd forgotten you were coming. I haven't put my lipstick on.'
    Judith kissed her mother's soft cheek. 'You haven't forgotten, Mum. There was nothing arranged. I just thought I'd like to see you. Is that OK?' She sat down in an orange plastic chair, massaging an ache above her left eye. Sleep was beckoning madly, but it wasn't going to happen for a couple of hours chez O'Malley.
    'Of course! It's lovely to see you.' Wilma agitated her stick some more, and sucked her teeth. 'What shall we talk about? I haven't really had a chance to think of anything to say.'
    How odd that her mother should need notice to gather together the