Kissing in a tree, to be stuck at Kings Cross station

'Mum and Steve sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.'

Any used to chant this playground rhyme to me all the time, before I told her, 'Yes, Steve is my boyfriend.'

She's been unhappy and difficult lately. I thought it was just being 6. I thought me splitting up with her Dad had messed her up. I wanted to blame food additives, or the wrong sort of TV, or a phase of the moon, or some weird brain disease. All I know is that she told me she hated me and that I didn't love her. Of course this is infuriating and ridiculous, but the more I'd tell her how silly it all is, the more she'd stamp her feet and say, 'You don't even like me!'

My Mum is staying this week, to help with Amy as I still haven't found a new au pair. She commented that Amy seems happier than she'd been on our recent holiday, and I think this is true. She hasn't had one of these 'everyone hates me' strops for nearly a week now. The worst I've had to cope with is, "You don't love me. You like me but you don't love me." And she didn't even stamp her feet as she said it.

The day before Steve flew to Vegas, I was heading to York to see my family. I got to the station to buy tickets and filled out a form to buy a new Family Railcard. There was a long queue at the ticket office. I had heavy bags, I was leaving later than I'd planned, there was a train due and we'd be pushing it to make it. I was stressed by all of this, plus tired too. I'd stayed up till 4am enjoying my last chance to be with Steve for a few weeks, then Amy woke me at 6am.

I finally got to the front of the queue and asked for a Railcard and two Returns to York, when I tried to pay I couldn't find my bank card. On the way to the station I'd tried to take cash out, but the machine hadn't worked. I realised that heavy bags, hurrying, and most probably lack of sleep, had all conspired to make me leave my card in the machine. I didn't have another card. I didn't have cash. I couldn't get those tickets.

I was cross and upset. I wondered what to do. I thought of ringing my Ex first of all. Thirteen years of asking him for help when I was in trouble was a hard habit to break. Amy sat on my bag, patiently, always good when there's a crisis, and I tried not to cry and wondered what I could do. Of course I decided I had to phone Steve.

The thing is, this isn't the first time I've lost my bank card. I lost my purse in the ladies loo at Borders a few weeks before (don't ask). Steve had helped me then. He's always helping me..! I've lost track of the number of favours owed. I can't think of one that I've given in return. It's just worked out that way. Steve's been a babysitter for me when I've been stuck for childcare, he's looked after Dolly when I've been away. He's loaned me money loads of times when I ran out of cash and the bank were sending my card to number 22 not 22B. These are just the practical favours he's given, the tally with emotional support feels equally uneven.

I think we're a very happy boyfriend/girlfriend, but Steve recently pointed out that he doesn't feel we're a 'couple' as yet. I think that's true, and perhaps this is to do with my reluctance to call him from Kings Cross station when I need help?

I did call him in the end, because I couldn't think of any better plan. He said he'd be right there and buy the tickets. It felt like a big favour. Do you think the word 'favour' should be used between a couple?

I should know that Steve wants to help because he loves me. Just as I would want to help him if he ever needed it. Of course I would, I'd do anything to help him.

And if I thought like that, instead of getting miserable at yet another favour 'owed', then we might be a proper partnership, we might actually feel like a 'couple' not a boyfriend and girlfriend.

As I got on the train, with Steve helping with bags, and holding Amy's hand, I knew I wasn't going to see him again for three long weeks. I hadn't expected to see him at all that day, yet there he was, rescuing me when I needed him. Of course I had to kiss him goodbye...

As Amy might put it, 'Mum and Steve, saying goodbye. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.'

In York, Amy told my Mum and brother, 'My Mum has a boyfriend. I saw them kiss.' Everyone smiled about this, and reassured her that this was perfectly normal.

I think it must be very hard to be six, and to realise that your Mum is in love with someone else.

My Mum may be right that Amy is happier right now. I think I made many mistakes at first, she'd sing her kissing taunt, and then say, 'Steve is your boyfriend...' At first I'd always deny it. I was trying to protect her, to break it to her gently. So, 'He's a friend who's a boy.' I'd sometimes tell her.

Sometimes she'd ask, 'How much do you like Steve? Do you love him? Is he your best friend..?'

How do you tell your daughter that they're no longer the only one you love?

I told her slowly, badly, deceitfully... But she knows it all now. I finally got there, with a, 'Yes, he's my boyfriend.' In the end I even said, 'Yes I love him too.' She saw us kiss at Kings Cross station, so it surely must be clear?

On holiday she told us that no one loves her, and turned into an angry demanding monster whenever we wanted to go to the shops, or if I wanted to put sun cream on her, or if I used the wrong tone of voice for a Wednesday lunchtime.

My Mum told me that I shouldn't have kissed Steve in front of her. She's right I'm sure. No, actually I'm not sure at all...

It's not easy loving someone else when you want the best for your daughter, when all she wants is to be the most important person in your life. I kissed Steve, yes, and I love him, and I love Amy too, of course. It's simple for me, not so for her.

The last few days Amy and I have talked a lot. I've told her that Steve is my boyfriend, and that I love him, but that I her just as much as always.

She seems to be starting to understand. She seems more secure, we've been having fun once again, with Daddy Potato cartoons on the walls, and jokes about Yorkshire, and 'Pick On Gran Day.' And her new golf set, and laughing about Bratz being rubbish, and so many more happy, silly, (magic), fun, mother-daughter games.

I hope things will be ok, that the kissing song won't be used as a taunt anymore, that she'll accept that Steve and I are a boyfriend and girlfriend, who might one day even be a couple.

I was emailing Steve yesterday when she wanted me to play. I left the email and drew pictures with her.

"Who do you love the most, me or Steve?"

She's asked that question so many times lately... I told her I loved them both, that you couldn't measure love, that it wasn't like that.

I feel like I'm constantly trying to find the magic code words that will make her happy about all of this. Strangely, 'I love you most,' doesn't seem to be the right password for this question.

She seemed to accept what I'd said, and we happily played. After a moment she said, "It's ok that you love Steve, but I don't want to see you kiss."

I don't mind being creative in hiding this. I'm sure there are plenty of places we can still kiss.

Jo and Steve sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G..?