The Wrong Mother Read Online Free PDF Page A

me down for a good reason.
    ‘I thought we had a firm arrangement,’ I said. ‘You told me you’d put it in the diary.’
    ‘I know. I’m really sorry, but, like I say, this lady’s going into hospital. I can try and find you someone else, perhaps. Tell you what, why don’t I ask my mum? I bet she’d do it.’
    I um-ed and ah-ed. A large part of me was tempted to say, ‘Yes, please!’, the part that yearned to overlook all inconvenient details for the sake of being able to think of the matter as resolved. Sometimes—no, often—I feel as if my brain and life will shatter into tiny pieces if I am given one more thing to sort out. As it is, I start each day with a list of between thirty and forty things I need to do. As I blast my way through the hours between six in the morning and ten at night, the list goes round and round in my head, each item beginning with a verb that exhausts me: ring, invoice, fax, order, book, arrange, buy, make, prepare, send . . .
    It would have been a great relief to be able to say, ‘Thanks, Pam, your mum’ll do nicely.’ But I’ve met Pam’s mother. She’s short and very fat and a smoker, and moves slowly and with difficulty. In the end I said no thanks, I’d find someone else myself. I couldn’t resist adding, nosily, that I hoped Pam’s neighbour would make a speedy recovery.
    ‘Oh, she’s not ill,’ said Pam, as if I ought to have known. ‘She’s going in for a boob job. She’ll be in and out in a couple of days, but the thing is, her husband’s away that week and so’s her sister, so she’s got no help, and you can’t lift anything heavy after a boob job, so she won’t be able to lift the twins. They’re only six months old.’
    ‘A boob job? Are you serious?’
    Pam nodded.
    ‘When did she ask you?’ I must be missing something, I thought.
    ‘A couple of weeks ago. I’d say I’d have Zoe as well, only I’m not allowed more than three at a time, and I’ve already got another child booked in for that week.’
    ‘I don’t understand,’ I said, keeping my voice level. ‘I rang you to organise this months ago. You said you’d put it in the diary. When your neighbour asked you, why didn’t you just say no, that you’re already booked up?’
    Pam’s mouth twitched. She doesn’t like to be challenged. ‘Look, I thought I’d be okay with four, just for the week, but my mum said—and she’s right—that it’s not worth breaking the rules. Childminders aren’t allowed more than three at a time. I don’t want to get into any trouble.’
    ‘I know, but . . . sorry if this sounds petty, but why are you apologising to me instead of to your neighbour, or the parent of this other child?’
    ‘I thought you’d take it better than either of the other mums. You’re more approachable.’
    Great, I thought: punished for good behaviour. ‘Would it make any difference if I said I’d pay double? If I paid whatever the twins’ mum was going to pay you, just to look after Zoe? I will, if that’ll make a difference.’ I shouldn’t bloody well have to, this is outrageous, a voice in my head was shouting. I smiled my most encouraging smile. ‘Pam, I’m desperate. I need someone to look after Zoe that week, and she knows you and really likes you. I don’t think she’d be happy going to someone she doesn’t know so well . . .’
    All the warmth was draining from Pam’s face as I spoke. Watching her eyes, I felt as if I was transforming into something disgusting in front of her, as if my skin was turning to green slime. ‘I’m not trying to rip you off,’ she said. ‘I don’t want more money out of you. What do you think this is, some kind of scam?’
    ‘No, of course not. I just . . . look, I’m sorry, Pam, I don’t want to whinge, but I’m a bit upset about this. I can’t believe you can’t see it from my point of view. I’ve got a really important conference that I have to go to. I’ve spent months setting it up. I can’t not go, and