Content note: This is fiction. It contains pregnancy loss, a death during a police raid, domestic abuse and immigration detention. Please also note that there is a page after the story that isn't fiction, and it is clearly labelled.
A note before you start: this is part four of four, the final part in the Within Living Memory series. Part one was entirely true, sourced throughout, and is what has actually happened in real life. Parts two to four are fiction, although everything in them has happened in real life. The brackets show the place where it happened and the year, and the full sources are in the Receipts section below the blog post. I highly recommend that you read parts one to three before reading part four. I hope you enjoy the conclusion to the series, and if there's one thing you can do after reading this, it is to vote.
September 2036
It's now September 2036 and Hannah is walking Grace to her first day at school. Grace turned four in August and is so excited about starting school. As they walk down the road, the plastic stethoscope from her toy vet kit dangles around her neck. She refuses to take it off, and Hannah doesn't want a battle when leaving the house, so she lets her wear it as far as the school gates. The pavement is long and straight and today is bin day. They pass every recycling bin on Ashdown Street. At the end of the road they turn left, and it's only another couple of hundred metres before they cross the road to the school gates. The lollipop lady's sign squeaks every time she turns it, and she gives Grace a big smile and a wave and wishes her the best for her first day at school.
Hannah is dressed, as usual these days, to the code. She has a dull long-sleeved top on and a long skirt. It's an Indian summer and it's warm even at half past eight. Hannah didn't choose the dress code that was imposed on them all, but these days she doesn't even think about it. She just gets up and puts the clothes on, because they're the only clothes she has in her wardrobe.
Her phone bleeps and she pulls it out of her pocket to glance at it. It's her mum wishing her good luck and letting her know that it's okay to cry at the gates, every mum does on the first day of school.
Her phone is on Tom's contract now, and Hannah hasn't worked since 2033. The family roles scheme had been launched that year, and Hannah's firm encouraged everyone eligible to take up the offer. It gave a lump sum payment to mothers who left work. She thought about it long and hard, and in the end she chose to take it, because the cost of nursery fees for Grace had gone up so much that they cost more than the pay she took home each month. When she asked the firm if there was any possibility of working flexible hours, she was told that these sorts of requests "couldn't be accommodated". And Tom was head of the floor and earned more anyway, so when they worked out the sums it just made sense to take the offer, and the decision was pretty much made for her. So when Grace was one, Hannah was given just over two years' pay. According to the official records she left, and nobody sacked her. (Afghanistan, 2021: professional women told to stay at home "until further notice". The notice never came.) [1]
Women were leaving work in their droves, which the media capitalised on, spinning it that women must have always wanted to be at home supporting their families, and that this was proof the government's family policies were working. Nobody in those articles, however, mentioned that the companies were pressuring the women to leave, or that financially it made very little sense for them to stay. The only women who were staying in work were the ones who came from money, because they could afford to pay a nanny, or the ones who were working for their husbands in one capacity or another.
The house and bank accounts are all in Tom's name now too. They'd received a letter in 2033 which explained that the household accounts were being consolidated, "made simpler" is how they put it, like the mortgage had been. Now Hannah gets a monthly transfer from Tom's account to a card that's in her name. As a joke everyone calls it the housekeeping money. Hannah feels like it's more of a step back to the 1950s. (Switzerland, until 1988: a married woman needed her husband's permission to open a bank account or take a job. Britain, before 1975: banks could refuse a woman credit without a man's signature. Afghanistan, 2025: fewer than seven women in a hundred have a bank account.) [2]
The amount that Hannah gets on her housekeeping card each month is the same, but prices aren't. This year she couldn't afford to get Grace new school shoes. She isn't able to go out so much, as petrol has become so expensive. And the big shop has become a smaller shop, with more budget items and less meat. Tom sees the money go out of his account but he never asks what it buys. Hannah is the one that sits down at the end of every month and works out the sums. She's the one that scrimps and saves to find things better value or second hand. She always sacrifices herself so that she can provide for Grace.
There are two Partnership men standing either side of the school gates, dressed completely in black, the same as at the train station five years ago. Hannah thinks her memory of those times feels a lot longer ago than five years. Grace waves at one of the men, who gives her a small wave back and a slight smile. None of the swarm of other nervous-looking mums, who are all in long sleeves, or the other kids look at the men as they pass them and head into the busy playground.
Grace, who's now bursting with a mix of excitement and a few nerves, swings off her mum's arm, dragging her towards the teacher, who's smiling at them. The teacher, Mrs Barnes, is handing out pencil cases to the new children, and they can choose which colour they want and a pack of stickers to decorate it with. Grace chooses a bright purple pencil case and a packet of animal stickers, and confidently tells Mrs Barnes that she's going to be a vet when she grows up. Hannah gives her a hug and a peck on the cheek, and whispers into her ear that she can be anything she likes.
Jess, Hannah's half-sister who was a midwife, had been cautioned and then struck off in 2032. The year before, the police had taken the notes of a woman who'd been a patient on Jess's ward, after she lost her pregnancy at eighteen weeks. Then the police looked into Jess's conduct at work and found out that she'd told a later patient she didn't have to name the father on the form. That was enough for a caution, but they reviewed the decision later and struck her off. Hannah always had her suspicions that Dan had something to do with it, but she never asked him. Jess is miserable now, working night shifts in a care home in Leeds, and she stays in touch with Hannah whenever she can.
Dan, Hannah's brother, has been an MP since 2033. Sometimes she sees him on the telly, and more often than not she switches it off. Kelly, his wife, is running his office now. Alfie is nine years old and thriving at primary school. In fact he's just across the playground from Grace, in the juniors, climbing on the big climbing frame. Kelly does the school run and then goes to work for Dan in his constituency office. Because he's the boss, she's allowed out to go and pick Alfie up from school, and she has flexible hours. Most women don't have that privilege.
Hannah was devastated when her friend and old colleague Priya left to go and live in Ireland in 2030. They'd exchanged Christmas cards every year until 2034, but then they just stopped coming. She didn't know why. Was it Priya, or was it the post not getting through? Whichever it was, it wasn't good, and she really hoped Priya was okay.
September 2037
In September Grace started Year 1, although things were a bit different, as the school had had a shake-up and now she was in a different building. It had been split, literally in two, over the summer holidays, into a boys' side and a girls' side. Parents were told in an email just before the kids went back, which said it was "to allow teaching to be tailored" and that everyone would benefit. It wasn't an optional change either. The government had brought in a new curriculum and direction for schools. Hannah was quite surprised when she dropped Grace off on the first day back and saw a huge green metal fence, the kind that goes round tennis courts, running right down the middle of the playground. The email had called the changes "exciting". All Grace asked when she saw it was whether the boys had a better climbing frame. Hannah looked, and yes, they certainly had the bigger one. (Afghanistan, 2021 to the present: primary school open to girls, separately, to grade six. Iran, 1979 onwards: schools segregated by sex.) [3]
The local elections had been held in May, and there was one ballot per household rather than per adult. It was to be cast by the head of the household, and they were told this was "to simplify the register". Over dinner that night Tom asked who Hannah wanted him to vote for. He was kind about it, listened to her, and definitely wanted an open conversation. They came to a joint decision and he went off and voted. She stayed at home. She didn't even get up from the kitchen table, she just sat there and wondered about the women who might not have such an understanding husband. (Pakistan, Lower Dir, 2015: more than 47,000 women on the register, not one ballot cast by a woman, by local agreement among the men.) [4]
Autumn 2037
In the autumn the government published a list of "priority degrees". These were the ones the grants would cover, and where students could get the full loan. Anything that wasn't on it, which included teaching, social work, nursing and midwifery, and veterinary nursing, got no help at all, and the family had to find the money. Hannah thought of Jess, and then she thought of Grace, but Grace was only five, so she put it out of her mind, because it didn't matter, not yet. (United States, 2026: graduate degrees in teaching and social work taken off the government's list of "professional" degrees, halving what a student could borrow; nursing taken off and put back after a court challenge.) [5]
In that same session of Parliament which listed the priority degrees, the abortion limit was also cut, to just twelve weeks. The reason given was to bring England and Wales "in line with our European neighbours, France and Germany". Hannah was in the kitchen, cutting the crusts off plain grated cheese sandwiches for Grace's packed lunch, when she heard the announcement on the radio. Most people thought it sounded reasonable. It wasn't a complete ban, which a lot of people had been pushing for, and for a moment Hannah didn't give it too much thought either. But then she recalled a distant memory from 2030, when she'd thought exactly the same thing about it being cut to twenty weeks. Her hands paused halfway through putting the sandwich into the lunch box, and without realising she bit her bottom lip until it started to bleed. She had that feeling again in the pit of her stomach, but carried on with the lunch, zipped up the bag and put it in Grace's rucksack with the bottle of water. (North Carolina and Nebraska, 2023: twelve-week bans.) [6]
It didn't come from an official announcement, but news came that the Border Command had opened processing centres on two old army bases. One was in Wiltshire and one in North Yorkshire. There had been many whispers about it, and it had eventually found its way to the six o'clock news. Drone footage showed rows and rows of white tents on brown grass. There was a high perimeter fence, several bright floodlights and a lot of mud. It looked truly primitive. Hannah stood watching it on the television in the kitchen, whilst Grace sat at the table, simultaneously eating fish fingers and playing with a small farm set. Hannah subtly turned the volume down on the television so that Grace wouldn't hear the details. In the first month the government said that the camps contained 18,000 people. However, after the second month, figures were no longer published about how many people were detained. It just wasn't mentioned. (United States, January 2026: a record 71,000 people in immigration detention, some in a tent camp on an army base in Texas; 52 deaths in custody in the first 500 days of the administration, the highest rate in over a decade; reporting to Congress on pregnant women in detention stopped.) [7]
October 2037
Leanne, who had worked with Hannah, had lost her job when she was seven months pregnant. She was still a foodie and just as organised as ever, and was now living in Stevenage with her seven-year-old daughter Ruby.
On a cold, dark, drizzly Tuesday morning in October, the Border Command raided her street at ten past six, looking for a family who were on their "removals" list. Leanne was woken by the sound of several engines, van doors slamming, a whole load of shouting and screaming, plus a dog barking from a few doors down.
She had absolutely no idea what was going on, and although rather apprehensive, she grabbed her dressing gown, slid her feet into her slippers and opened her front door to a scene of utter chaos. There were several people, although from the noise being made it sounded more like hundreds, in a blur of chaotic movement. She tied the belt of her dressing gown tightly and headed down her path towards the front gate. She suddenly heard a pop, and then a huge plume of smoke started floating across the pavement. It was all levels of madness, and in that split second she was frozen to the spot, mouth agape. The men, all dressed in black, were shouting simultaneously at everyone and shoving people, and there was a big scuffle going on just outside her next-door neighbour's gate. She could see more armed officers rushing over from the other side of the road. There were several people held face down on the ground, and one lone toddler standing in the rain holding a purple cuddly monkey, crying so hard that he was barely breathing. Leanne heard one of the Border Command yell at her. She put her hands up, and just as she turned her head the bullet hit her chest and she crumpled, as if in slow motion. Ruby always woke early. She had come to the window and seen everything. She hadn't spoken a word since.
That evening the government put a statement out saying that Leanne had "advanced on officers". The people who were there knew that wasn't true, but nearly every one of them had their mobile phones confiscated, and any post mentioning it was taken down almost immediately.
A neighbour's doorbell camera showed that she'd been standing completely still on her path at the time, with both her hands held clearly in the air above her head. He posted it online that very night, aghast at what he'd witnessed and enraged that something like this could actually happen. The next day he was arrested for "obstruction" and the footage was taken down. That evening people started gathering outside Leanne's house, leaving flowers and lighting candles and trying to get mainstream media coverage of what had taken place there the day before. Many of them had seen the footage online, even though it had been taken down, and were coming together in an act of solidarity against the government's Border Command. The problem was, every time the video got posted it was very quickly taken down. People came day after day initially, but after a week or so the numbers dwindled and eventually the street went quiet. All that was left were some burnt-out candles and the pink ribbon that had tied some flowers around the lamp post. (United States, January 2026: a mother shot by an immigration agent in Minneapolis, the official account contradicted by video; an intensive care nurse shot while filming federal agents. Iran, 2022: the two journalists who reported Mahsa Amini's death arrested within a fortnight.) [8]
Hannah, who was still friends with Philippa in accounts, found out what had happened to Leanne from a WhatsApp message with a link to the story. However, when she clicked on it the page said "this content is unavailable". She immediately rang Philippa, who told her all the details she could recall from the page before it was taken down. They talked about the fact that Ruby was only seven, and how unbearable it all was. When Hannah put the phone down she cried for a good fifteen minutes, and thought about Grace.
November 2037
On a cold, dull mid-November morning at a crematorium outside Stevenage, soggy brown leaves covered the footpath and a dark grey sky threatened rain overhead. Hannah walked slowly towards the red brick building, tying the belt of her long black coat tightly around herself. She was alone. Tom was at work, and had apologised for not being able to come. She knew he was sorry, but desperately wished he was there.
As she approached the doorway she saw Ruby in a smart navy coat, holding her grandad's hand. Both of them had bloodshot eyes and tear-stained faces. There was a huge number of people there, alongside an equally huge presence from the Partnership. Men sat in black vans in the car park, engines left running, faces as always covered in black masks, only their cold eyes visible. Nobody said anything to the men, nobody said anything about them, and nobody was ever charged with anything.
December 2037
Christmas 2037 was a subdued affair at Hannah's dad's house. Mike was there, alongside Dan, Kelly and Alfie, who was now ten, and Tom, Hannah and Grace, who was now five. Jess had come down from Leeds, and this was the first Christmas she'd been with them all in years. It was chicken this year, paired with the same sprouts that nobody really wanted, pigs in blankets that always got eaten first, and a thick bread sauce. Hannah was laying the table whilst Dan carved up the meat. In the past it had always been Mike's job, but this year he moved a bit slower than usual and said he was happy for Dan to do it. Alfie was busy playing on the new games console in the lounge, and they could hear him periodically cheering or groaning to no one in particular through the wall. Mike and Tom were watching the Prime Minister's Christmas message on the telly in the other room.
After dinner Hannah and Jess were in the kitchen doing the dishes. Hannah was scrubbing burnt bits of pigs in blankets off the oven dish, and Jess was drying glasses with a novelty tea towel that Mike had got in his stocking. The windows had almost cleared of steam, and the room smelt of washing-up liquid and burnt bacon. The tap was running as the women chatted. Jess told her, bit by bit, about everything that had happened, finishing the conversation they couldn't get through on the phone.
Nadia, a midwife Jess had worked with for many years, had been convicted in 2033 for supplying a patient with abortion pills. The woman's personal situation was extremely difficult, and Nadia knew that she was experiencing domestic violence on a significant level. She'd managed to get the pills from a Dutch women's group that still posted them, packaged up as vitamins, and had dropped them off at the woman's house after her shift one evening. When the patient didn't turn up to her next appointment it was investigated, and the police took her phone and traced it all back to Nadia through their messages. She was found guilty and sentenced to six years in prison. Jess said she was still there, and had another three years to go before they'd consider her for parole. Jess told Hannah how she had only been cautioned and then struck off, and how she felt lucky by comparison, but she absolutely hated feeling lucky about any of it. She sends letters to Nadia, but has never had a reply. (Poland, 2023: Justyna Wydrzyńska convicted for giving abortion pills to a woman in an abusive relationship.) [9]
She talked about her new job in the care home. The old ladies there called her nurse and she didn't correct them. As much as she enjoyed looking after them, she missed being a midwife, and the sound of a newborn's cry. Hannah was passing the oven dish to Jess when Dan came in for more gravy, and the conversation stopped dead. Jess looked at the gravy.
April 2038
In April 2038 the abortion limit was cut yet again, this time to just six weeks. Only a few media outlets covered it, and this time it was called a "heartbeat protection measure". No one anywhere used the word ban.
At six weeks most women don't even know they're pregnant. Hannah knew because of Priya, who'd found out at five weeks back in 2028. Even with an extra week she still ran out of time, and that was ten years ago. The political climate was very different these days. Since 2031, when the court ruled on the 2026 law, the protection against prosecution only covered women whose pregnancy ended inside the limit. So any woman whose pregnancy didn't complete after six weeks was back under the rules of the 1861 law. Since that change in 2031, the statistics said that 212 women in England and Wales had been investigated by the police after losing a pregnancy, and 31 of them were in prison for illegal termination. Jess was too scared to talk in detail about her thoughts on the matter, but she had said to Hannah on the phone that she'd heard most of them had never been anywhere near a clinic, and that they'd miscarried at home. Hannah knew that with the new limit at six weeks, it would only get worse. (England and Wales, 2020 to 2026: around a hundred women investigated by police on suspicion of illegal abortion, many after miscarriages. El Salvador, 2000 to 2019: at least 180 women prosecuted after obstetric emergencies, most of them miscarriages and stillbirths. Florida, 2024: a six-week ban. Texas, 2021: the same, with private enforcement.) [10]
May 2038
In May, general elections were held across the nation. For now it was still one vote per person, and Hannah and Tom were heading towards the village hall to cast their votes. As they rounded the corner they saw a tatty "polling station" sign and two men in black stood outside the entrance. There was a long queue, which was eerily quiet, running down the pavement and reaching as far back as the cemetery entrance. They found their way to the back of the line in silence. As they slowly progressed forwards, Hannah saw that the men were asking each woman in the queue the name of her head of household before they allowed her in. When the woman in front of them heard this, an older lady with a tartan shopping trolley, she said she'd come back later, but she didn't. By the time they got to the doors, about half the women in the queue had either been turned away or left voluntarily before getting to the front.
Inside, the old parquet flooring was now covered in grey lino, and Hannah noticed that none of the old committee photos were on the walls. The booths that used to have little partition curtains had also gone, and people were marking their ballot papers on open trestle tables. Hannah gave Tom's name to the volunteer at the desk, who crossed them off a long list. Tom nodded, and Hannah voted, putting her cross in the box whilst he stood right next to her. (Afghanistan: no elections since 2021. Pakistan, Lower Dir, 2015.) [11]
Hannah didn't even consider staying up to find out what happened this time. She went to bed early, as soon as Grace had gone down. Tom told her the results at breakfast, and it was exactly what she had imagined. Rebuild had won again, this time with a much bigger majority. The media were calling the turnout "healthy", but Hannah wasn't sure whether she could believe that or not, because it certainly didn't match her real life experience. Dan kept his seat and also got a new job in government. He became the junior minister for the Department for Families. Mike was very proud and rang round everyone as soon as he found out. Hannah already knew, because Dan had been sending messages bragging about it before he'd even officially accepted it.
Hannah knew a lot of people that were struggling like she was. Philippa from accounts had lost her house. One of her neighbours on Ashdown Street had sold their house and moved in with their parents because they couldn't afford the payments. A lot of shops had closed on the High Street, and the gap between people like Dan and Kelly and everyone else was becoming more and more apparent. The annual foreign holiday that Hannah and Tom used to take had been replaced with a couple of weekends camping locally, when the weather was good. Rebuild blamed the last lot, or the people that were in the camps, depending on which argument suited them best at the time.
March 2039
By March Grace was six years old, and Hannah and Tom had finally conceived after trying for a second baby for over a year. Hannah was overjoyed, and even with the morning sickness she had a spring in her step. She had so desperately wanted Grace to have a sibling. She was excited to tell Grace, but they'd decided to wait a little bit longer. She was only nine weeks pregnant, and only she and Tom knew.
The following Tuesday, after the school run, Hannah started getting cramps. The bleeding began almost as soon as she got home, and she headed straight for the bathroom. The floor tiles were deathly cold under her feet, the extractor fan humming in sync with her moans. The pain was unbearable, both physically and emotionally, and she sobbed so hard that her eyes almost closed with the swelling. She collapsed onto the floor, exhausted, hugging her knees close to her chest and wishing she could turn back time.
By quarter past three she had cleaned the whole bathroom from top to bottom. The whole house reeked of bleach for the rest of the day. By the time she went to collect Grace from school she had composed herself, but she hid her puffy eyes behind thick black sunglasses and turned up late, so she could simply grab and go and not have to entertain small talk with the school mums. She told nobody, not even her mum, nor Jess.
The next day she got an appointment with her GP, because she was bleeding very heavily. Dr Shah was a kind woman with a box of tissues on her desk, and she listened sympathetically to Hannah telling her what had happened. Hannah looked up and saw that she was completing a form on the computer, with a section headed "pregnancy loss after six weeks: mandatory notification". When Dr Shah noticed Hannah staring at the screen she stopped typing, turned towards her and said that she was sorry, but she had to. Hannah could tell that Dr Shah was genuinely sorry and didn't have a choice but to fill the form in, but this just added even more worry to her long list of overwhelming emotions. Dr Shah pressed submit, and as Hannah got up to leave she saw the green tick of the form submission glowing on the screen.
On Friday, at around five o'clock, the doorbell went. Hannah got up, leaving Grace watching cartoons in the lounge, and opened the door to see two police officers standing there in uniform. They politely asked if they could come in for a word, and as they stepped into the hallway they asked for Hannah's phone, just to "rule things out". The sound of the cartoon's jolly theme tune quietly provided the backdrop to the men asking for the password to her period tracking app. Before Hannah had even answered the officer, Tom had picked the phone up from the sideboard and handed it over. She watched him do it and gave him a short side-eye glance. He quietly said, "We have nothing to hide, it's easier this way." As the officer put the phone in a clear plastic bag and zipped it up, the boiler clicked on behind her, taking three attempts to get going, but nobody in the hall heard it. (England and Wales, 2020 to 2026: around a hundred women investigated by police on suspicion of illegal abortion, many after miscarriages; police guidance, reported in 2025, that officers should examine women's phones and period-tracking apps when investigating a pregnancy loss. El Salvador: women reported to the police by the hospital treating them.) [12]
For the next three months Hannah used Tom's old phone on his contract. In June they received a letter saying that the case had been closed and that no further action was being taken. The phone eventually came back, in the same plastic bag with a receipt stapled to the front of it. Nobody apologised. Tom gave her a hug and said, "See, I told you it'd be okay." Except Hannah felt the furthest she'd ever felt from being okay.
That same week Hannah purposefully stayed up later than Tom, pottering around the kitchen waiting for him to go to bed. She sat at the kitchen table, logged into her laptop and searched for divorce. She eventually found some information and started scanning it quickly, in case Tom came back downstairs. The process involved a two-year separation, a fault test, a fee paid from the household account, and the signature of the head of the household on the form. Hannah thought about it whilst reading, and worked out that she could probably borrow the money from Jess. But then she felt sickness developing in the pit of her stomach when she read that custody would pass to the head of the household when a child turned seven, to "provide stability". Hannah was caught so off guard by this that she actually started gagging. Panic rose through her whole body and she broke out in a sweat. Grace would turn seven in August, and even if she could get a divorce through by then, there was no way in the world that she would accept losing her daughter. (Iran: a mother keeps custody until seven, then it passes to the father. Israel: divorce only through all-male religious courts; a husband can refuse. Britain, February 2026: a senior Reform UK MP saying he wants the no-fault divorce changes reversed, though it is not yet party policy.) [13]
She closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, then turned off the laptop. The screen went black and she could see the reflection of the kitchen, and herself in it, sitting there alone. The fridge hummed and the dishwasher beeped six times, letting her know it was finished. In the quiet of the late night she could just about hear Tom snoring upstairs.
The following evening Tom made her a cup of tea. She sat, subdued, at the kitchen table, cupping it with her hands. She sat there until it went cold and then slowly poured it down the sink.
Early 2040
By early 2040 most of the middle class had gone. Nobody that Hannah and Tom knew was comfortably off any more, except for Dan and Kelly. The firm that Hannah had left, and that Tom still worked at, had been through more rounds of cuts. Tom was lucky to keep his job, and Hannah felt luckier than a lot. More and more businesses were making people redundant.
In early 2040, following a consultation, universities published a list of courses that would no longer admit women, "to reflect graduate outcomes". The outcomes they meant were jobs. Hardly any women who'd graduated in the last five years were in work, because of the scheme, so the argument went that there was no point training them. The news story that Hannah read was mostly about the engineering courses, but when she read down the full list on her phone she found the one course that she'd desperately hoped wouldn't be on there, and her heart sank. It was. And she knew it was over. She felt a pain that she'd never felt before, and knew that things would never be the same again. (Iran, 2012: thirty-six universities barred women from seventy-seven courses, from engineering to English literature.) [14]
October 2040
Grace still had her vet kit when she was eight years old. She was still bandaging the cat, Biscuit, who was very tolerant and most of the time let her get on with it. One Saturday afternoon in October, Hannah had arranged for Grace to spend some time at Kelly's. She spent the time going through Grace's bedroom and the living room and collected all the vet toys and books. She pulled the loft ladder down and climbed up. The loft was dusty, with cobwebs in the corners and a smell of Christmas decorations. It was lit by a single bare bulb, and the insulation was old and thinning. The plastic stethoscope and vet kit went into a box with the tinsel, and she found space in another box for the books and dressing-up things. On Sunday Grace got into quite a state searching for her vet things. Hannah helped her look, and then apologised, saying it must have accidentally gone to the charity shop with the old toys. It was the first time she had ever lied to her. She felt the bile rise in the back of her throat.
Late autumn 2040
In late autumn Hannah received a postcard from Priya, the first time she'd heard from her in six years. The postcard was from Dublin and had a picture of a green double-decker bus on the front. There were just four words written on the back. Hannah kept it in her purse, behind the housekeeping card. She didn't reply, for a multitude of reasons, the biggest being that she wasn't sure which address was safe.
January 2041
In the new year they received a letter home saying that from Easter the school choir would become boys only, for reasons of "modesty". It informed them that girls could continue to sing in class, but no longer in public. Just three weeks earlier Grace had sung beautifully at the Christmas carol concert, a verse of Silent Night as a solo, wearing a soft red jumper with a silver trim. Hannah had been so proud of her. She noticed that Grace gradually stopped singing altogether, even when she was on her own in the bath. Nobody had asked her to. (Afghanistan, August 2024: the law forbidding a woman's voice to be heard in public.) [15]
Hannah arranged an appointment with the head, Mrs Ellis, and told her that Grace loved singing and performing and had been really upset by the changes, hoping there would be something she could do. She was a woman too, after all. Surely she could see that this was a ridiculous idea? Mrs Ellis listened patiently and agreed with her. She did nothing.
February 2041
In February Grace started to complain of a pain in her jaw. The toothache got worse and worse, and they discovered she had an abscess and needed the tooth out under a general anaesthetic. It was a very difficult time, and Hannah hated seeing her in so much pain. She started filling out the consent form at the dentist, however near the bottom she saw that it needed the head of household's signature. Tom signed it that evening at the kitchen table, without any fuss. Hannah saw that there was no box for her to sign anywhere on the form. (Afghanistan: a woman needs a male guardian's permission for travel and treatment. Japan: a husband's written consent required for an abortion under the Maternal Health Act.) [16]
That same month a bill quietly passed about school transport. Hidden within it was a new rule lowering the age of marriage to below sixteen. It required both a father's consent and a magistrate's approval. Hannah only noticed it because there'd been talk of the school buses being cut, and she'd read the whole thing looking for Grace's route. Grace was eight. The girls in Alfie's year were fourteen. (Iran: thirteen, and younger with a father's consent and a court. United States, 2026: no minimum age at all in Mississippi or New Mexico; California only set one on 30 September 2026.) [17]
March 2042
By March the Government came after their social media accounts. A new rule stated there was to be only "one verified social media account per household", in order to "tackle anonymous abuse", and it could only be in the head of household's name. One morning, after clearing away the breakfast mess, Hannah was trying and failing to log into her account. It had just stopped working entirely. She tried logging in through her laptop, and the screen defaulted to a message that said "this account is not linked to a verified household".
She closed the lid and wiped the worktop, which was already clean. Then she wiped it again. She couldn't even send a WhatsApp to Jess from her phone. It wasn't that Hannah had been banned. She could still get to her messages and social accounts, but it all had to go through Tom's account on Tom's phone, and she had to ask him each time she wanted to use it.
She looked at the apps left on her phone and clicked on the independent news app that she always used to read on the tube, but it came up saying "unavailable in your region". She tossed the phone onto the counter and watched as the rain hammered the windowpane. The BBC news is useless these days, it reads like a company newsletter and Hannah doesn't even have the app anymore. She can't quite remember when that happened either. (Hungary, 2018 to 2021: 476 outlets handed to one foundation in one go, and exempted from the competition rules by decree; the main opposition radio station lost its licence. Russia, March 2022: every independent outlet closed, blocked or abroad within the month. Britain, December 2025: the government's review of the BBC charter, consulting on its own role in board appointments; the current charter runs out on 31 December 2027.) [18]
February 2043
In February 2043 the girls' online learning hubs, the ones girls had been going to instead of secondary schools since 2033, were to be "rationalised". Starting in September 2043 girls would finish their official education aged eleven and would receive a "home readiness certificate". The front pages talked about the economy and called it a "saving". Hannah didn't. Grace was ten, eleven in August. This was her life. The announcement had a huge public reaction, mostly from the women. (Afghanistan, September 2021: secondary school closed to girls, "temporarily", and still closed.) [19]
March 2043
A few weeks later a march was arranged in central London. Women, thousands of them, far more than anyone was expecting, turned up to protest against the school hubs closing. Jess begged Hannah to go with her, but Tom said he was busy that day, so she had to stay at home and look after Grace. And even if he hadn't been busy, she wasn't sure she would have gone. She hadn't forgotten the men in black at the station. Jess went with a friend and told her she'd be wearing her red coat.
Hannah watched it live through Tom's account. The drone footage from above showed a sea of purple and green banners, whistles blaring, drums banging and women chanting. It was hard to see a single inch of bare pavement, there were thousands of them filing over Westminster Bridge, down Whitehall and into Parliament Square. Hannah kept scanning to see if she could spot Jess in her red coat, but felt rather foolish thinking that would be possible, now she'd seen the turnout. She couldn't see her. Jess's messages were going to Tom's phone, so Hannah didn't get to read them until he got home that evening.
All the protesters that day were extremely peaceful. There were no fights, no violence, and no damage done to any buildings, shops or public monuments. It was busy, but well organised. Some people had even brought their daughters with them, and they were waving flags too. It was a very civilised affair, but that didn't stop the streets being lined by the Partnership, and by the end of the day over a hundred women had been arrested and separated from their children, even though there was no evidence anywhere of any trouble. (London, 9 August 2025: 522 people arrested in Parliament Square in one afternoon for holding placards, average age 54, more than a hundred of them over seventy.) [20]
The women were partially successful, but they only won a delay. The government announced that the changes would take place from September 2044 instead of 2043. So it wasn't really a victory. Grace got one year in the hub, just enough to give her a taste of what she'd be missing. (Tehran, 8 to 14 March 1979: tens of thousands of women marched against compulsory hijab and won a postponement; the law came four years later.) [21]
Autumn 2043
In autumn all universities closed to women, completely and immediately. It was announced one week before the new semester was due to start. They said that applications had been paused, and that all the women currently attending were to wait until a review of graduate outcomes had been completed. They would be contacted "in due course" if they were able to return. It wasn't a huge story. By this time there were hardly any women left on the courses. The list that the government had announced back in 2040 had done its job, and just like that women were erased from higher education. (Afghanistan, 20 December 2022: women banned from universities with immediate effect; about 100,000 turned away.) [22]
Hannah noticed, as she read over Tom's shoulder at breakfast, that the words "head of household" were no longer in inverted commas in the papers. She didn't recall when that changed. She also only just noticed that the spare key to the house was on Tom's keyring. It had been for years. She sat silently beside him, giving Grace as much of a smile as she could muster.
August 2044
Almost a year later they are back together again at Mike's house. It's a warm summer Sunday and they're all busy in the kitchen. Hannah notices that her dad Mike looks significantly older than the last time she saw him. He's slower, and he now has hearing aids. His hands shake slightly as he pulls a bottle out from the fridge. Dan is still a junior minister, with Kelly by his side. He appears more smug and full of himself than ever before. Alfie is now seventeen and taller than his dad, and is due to take his driving test in a few weeks' time. Her mum isn't there. Her parents separated years ago and she never comes to Mike's. The only time they've been in a room together since the divorce was at Hannah and Tom's wedding. She's having Grace over for a fish finger tea tomorrow.
Today it's roast chicken again, Grace's favourite, served up with fluffy roast potatoes, veg and gravy. It's hot outside, but the oven is on anyway and the windows are steamed up, like always.
The radio no longer sits on the windowsill. Gone are the days when Kelly sang along to it with baby Alfie in the high chair. Nobody sings now. The back door is open, although it makes little difference to the temperature inside the kitchen, and a wasp is buzzing around the jam that's been left open on the side. Hannah has baked a chocolate cake with twelve candles, and Alfie almost knocks it off the counter trying to waft the wasp away from it.
The transfer form came home last week in a brown envelope. It explained the new "home readiness pathway" for Grace, and it only needs one signature, not from her, from the head of household. It's sitting in her handbag, hanging off the back of her chair. She hasn't given it to Tom yet. She just can't bear the thought of it.
Dan dims the lights in the kitchen and brings Grace's cake over to her whilst they all sing Happy Birthday. She blows the candles out with one big breath, and although she's smiling Hannah can tell that she's not her usual self. With the candle smoke still hanging in the air, Grace asks, quite matter-of-factly, in front of everyone: "Is it true that I can't go to school after the summer holidays?" She isn't upset, she just wants to know, as one of the boys on their street shouted it at her a few weeks ago and called her stupid. The room goes quiet in an instant and Grace scoops more peas into her mouth, looking around at them all. The extractor fan seems to whirr louder than it did just moments ago.
After a long, awkward pause, Dan answers. He talks in a gentle voice and is kind. He mentions different pathways and readiness, and how it'll be brilliant because she'll have more time with her mum. Alfie sits with his head down, looking at his phone.
Tom interrupts, kindly, and asks them all "if we could, just, not do this today please, it's her birthday". Hannah has heard that voice before. It's the same quiet, reasonable voice he used when the dress code came in, when the mortgage went into both their names, and when he handed her phone to the police. She grips the side of her chair tightly.
She looks at the leftover potatoes on the side, and thinks about the form inside her bag, which is pressing against her back.
She starts telling herself that it's just the economy, but this time she doesn't finish it. She feels the anger rising up inside her, the anger that she's pushed down every single time, the anger that has compounded as one little thing after another little thing has built up inside her. Her chair scrapes loudly across the floor as she stands up abruptly. She says, out loud, in front of everyone, that yes it is true, and that it's wrong, very wrong. She crouches down close to Grace and apologises, saying that she should have said something a long time ago. She gently puts her hands on her shoulders, looks her directly in the eyes, and tells her that she can be anything she likes.
Nobody interrupts her. They sit there, stock still, staring at her. Nobody's really heard her say anything controversial since the post, thirteen years ago. Tom does nothing. He doesn't shout, he never does. He just looks over to Dan.
Dan says her name once, firmly, the way you would say it to a child who was doing something you wanted them to stop. She doesn't stop.
Grace is watching her mother, with the same face she had at the school gate when she was four years old, and she believes her.
That's the end of my fictional story, and the end of the series. Parts two to four were fiction, however it's all been based on real countries and real events in those countries. They're shown in brackets throughout the text. The full sources can be found at the bottom of the page. The next page isn't fiction, please do read on, it's so important.
The bit that isn't fiction
What happened to women and girls in Afghanistan only took three years, from August 2021 when the Taliban walked into Kabul to August 2024 when they introduced the law that silenced women's voices. The story I wrote followed Hannah through sixteen years, from May 2028 to August 2044. Which one was real? Because to me they both look unbelievable, but at least one of them definitely happened. And who knows, maybe the other might if we don't do anything about it. The next UK general election has to be held by 15 August 2029. If you've been moved at all by this work and feel that you want to do something to help, I urge you to vote. Make sure you're registered. It's quick, it's easy and it really does make a difference. And if you'd like to go a step further, please encourage your family and your friends to do the same.
Oh and finally, thanks for reading, and please remember to check in on the women and girls in your life.
The Receipts // (Sources)
[1] United Nations Assistance Mission in Afghanistan, reports on Taliban decrees, September 2021. Human Rights Watch, Afghanistan: Taliban Severely Restrict Women's Rights, September 2021. BBC News, Afghanistan: Taliban tell working women to stay at home, 24 August 2021.
[2] Swiss Parliament, Das Eherecht von 1985 (The Marriage Law of 1985), parlament.ch. Sex Discrimination Act 1975. UN Women, Afghanistan Gender Index 2024, June 2025.
[3] UN Women, Afghanistan Gender Index 2024, June 2025. United States Institute of Peace, The Iran Primer, Iranian Laws on Women.
[4] Free and Fair Election Network, PK-95 By-Election: Candidates Collude to Bar Women from Voting, 8 May 2015. Dawn, Election Commission voids PK-95 by-election result, 2015.
[5] Jessica Blake, Social Work, Education Still Fighting for Higher Loan Caps, Inside Higher Ed, 9 July 2026. Michael T. Nietzel, After Court Loss, Education Department Raises Loan Limit For More Programs, Forbes, 1 July 2026.
[6] North Carolina General Assembly, Senate Bill 20, 2023. Nebraska Legislature, Legislative Bill 574, 2023.
[7] Human Rights Watch, Dying in Detention: Rising Deaths in an Expanding US Immigration Detention System, 25 June 2026. United States Senate Committee on the Judiciary (Democrats), press release on pregnant women in ICE detention, 22 September 2025.
[8] Associated Press, Videos of deadly Minneapolis shooting contradict government statements, January 2026. Associated Press, reporting on the 7 January 2026 Minneapolis shooting, January 2026. Committee to Protect Journalists, Niloofar Hamedi and Elaheh Mohammadi, September 2022.
[9] Amnesty International, Poland: Activist convicted for helping woman access abortion pills, 14 March 2023.
[10] Humanists UK, briefing on police investigations of women for illegal abortion, 19 March 2026. Center for Reproductive Rights and Agrupación Ciudadana por la Despenalización del Aborto, prosecutions after obstetric emergencies in El Salvador, 2000 to 2019. Florida Senate Bill 300, 2023, in force 1 May 2024. Texas Senate Bill 8, 2021.
[11] Freedom House, Freedom in the World 2025: Afghanistan. Free and Fair Election Network, PK-95 By-Election: Candidates Collude to Bar Women from Voting, 8 May 2015.
[12] Humanists UK, briefing on police investigations of women for illegal abortion, 19 March 2026. Center for Reproductive Rights, Marginalized, Persecuted, and Imprisoned: The Effects of El Salvador's Total Criminalization of Abortion, 2014.
[13] United States Institute of Peace, The Iran Primer, Iranian Laws on Women. Rabbinical Courts Jurisdiction (Marriage and Divorce) Law, Israel, 1953. Equality Now, Israel: Rabbinical Courts Jurisdiction (Marriage and Divorce) Law (5713-1953). The Guardian, report on Danny Kruger's House magazine interview on divorce and family policy, 24 February 2026. David Maddox, Reform's Danny Kruger claims party would reset Britain's sexual culture as he laments divorce rates, The Independent, February 2026.
[14] Haleh Esfandiari, Iran Curtails Female Education, The Iran Primer, United States Institute of Peace, 20 August 2012. Saeed Kamali Dehghan, Anger as Iran bans women from universities, The Guardian, 20 August 2012.
[15] United Nations Assistance Mission in Afghanistan, Law on the Promotion of Virtue and Prevention of Vice, August 2024.
[16] United Nations Assistance Mission in Afghanistan and Human Rights Watch, Taliban decrees on male guardians, 2021 to 2024. Maternal Health Act, Japan, Article 14. Yu Shundo, Abortion and Spousal Consent in Japan, Institute of Comparative Law, Waseda University, 20 December 2022.
[17] United States Institute of Peace, The Iran Primer, Iranian Laws on Women. Unchained At Last, Child Marriage Progress, updated 30 September 2026. California Commission on the Status of Women and Girls, reported 1 October 2026.
[18] Átlátszó, data on the Central European Press and Media Foundation, 30 November 2018. Committee to Protect Journalists, interview with Klubrádió owner András Arató, 9 November 2021. Human Rights Watch, Russia: Criminalizes Independent War Reporting, Anti-War Protests, 7 March 2022. Department for Culture, Media and Sport, Britain's Story: The Next Chapter, BBC charter review green paper, 16 December 2025.
[19] United Nations Assistance Mission in Afghanistan and Human Rights Watch, September 2021 and March 2022.
[20] Metropolitan Police, arrest figures for Parliament Square, 9 and 10 August 2025. Al Jazeera, UK police arrest 522 over support for Palestine Action at London protests, 10 August 2025.
[21] The New York Times, Iran Women March Against Restraints on Dress and Rights, 11 March 1979. Justice for Iran, Thirty-five years of forced hijab, 2014.
[22] United Nations Assistance Mission in Afghanistan and Human Rights Watch, December 2022.
