The Misadventures of a Playground Mother Read Online Free PDF Page A

tear-stricken Penelope.
    â€˜I’ve left Rupert,' she repeated.
    I’d heard her very loud and very clear the first time. I wasn’t sure why I needed to know any of this; what business was it of mine? Not only had Penelope gatecrashed my New Year’s Eve party she also seemed hell-bent on wrecking my birthday. I had expected ‘a happy birthday’, at least but it was obvious I was expecting a little too much, for the next words that left her mouth made me sit up and question whether my brain was functioning correctly.
    â€˜Could I possibly stay here tonight?’
    I felt my whole body go into some sort of weird seizure, I started to sweat uncontrollably – I hoped this wasn’t the beginning of the menopause; I’d heard about women starting really young but surely not at thirty-five. Why in God’s name did Penelope want to stay here? What about Little Jonny and Annabel, their children? Where were they? Surely, she would want them with her. And why couldn’t she have kicked Rupert out and forced him to find a bed for the night? Let’s face it, Rupert was quite the ladies’ man, and there would have probably been numerous warm beds where he could have spent the night.
    Penelope, clearly, was eagerly waiting my reply. Frisky Pensioner would not be the only man in the village dying of a heart attack today if I suggested to Matt that we had an overnight guest. It was at this precise moment that I made the conscious decision to change the date of my birthday and not reveal it to anyone. I lost myself in a massive daydream as I imagined myself sitting on a beach sipping a cool beer, eating cake with not another soul in sight. I was brought back to the real world when Penelope stated, ‘Little Jonny and Annabel must be freezing waiting outside in the car.’ I stared at Penelope in amazement, my mouth falling open. I’d assumed they were at home with Rupert.
    I hit planet earth with a bump as my brain slowly digested her words. That was one of my New Year’s resolutions out of the window straightaway – I will not be a doormat. However, what could I do? Penelope was requesting my help and I didn’t think this was the appropriate time to upset her further so the words left my mouth, ‘Of course you can stay; go and retrieve those poor children from the car and let me dish up my birthday cake with hot chocolate for everyone.’
    â€˜I knew you would say yes,’ she gushed.
    I paused; ‘One night only Penelope, otherwise you will not be the only one getting divorced.’
    After a few minutes, I wearily climbed the stairs to check on my own children; Eva, Samuel, Matilda and Daisy had been extremely quiet all day. Peering around Eva’s bedroom door I could see from the corner of my eye that three of the children were snuggled under Eva’s duvet watching Back to the Future while eating their body weight in chocolate from their Christmas selection boxes. Matt must have moved Daisy’s playpen in to the bedroom because she was quite happily throwing her toys around whilst gurgling happily. I certainly wasn’t going to win any Mother of the Day awards today.
    Unquestionably, an early night was needed for all including me, as tomorrow was January 2nd, the day the school playground would be full of mothers displaying their range of new coats, bags and boots. This would be the day BB (Botox Bernie) would be in her element. She would have an extra spring in her step while parading her assortment of Christmas gifts such as Ugg boots, or a counterfeit designer coat, and her usual quantity of diamond-encrusted jewellery that bore a resemblance to the cheap tat that can be purchased from the local market. Nevertheless, I knew now exactly how she had accumulated her so-called gifts, and exactly how she had been earning her money if her appearance outside the Frisky Pensioner’s abode was anything to go by. It was very different from the