Фиона Гибсон – The Mum Who’d Had Enough: A laugh out loud romantic comedy perfect for fans of Why Mummy Drinks (страница 16)

Meanwhile, at my work, I have people referring to me as ‘that lanky fucker with the glasses’.

Back indoors, as I wipe down the entire upstairs’ skirting boards – so much dust! How come I’d never noticed before? – it occurs to me that I really should have stood up to Mum years ago, whenever she was offhand or downright rude to my wife. Mum was never like that with Kate Whickham, the girl I was seeing just before I met Sinead. Kate who’d been to Oxford and whose family ‘owned land’, and was working as a consultant, which seemed to impress Mum hugely, even though she didn’t fully understand what a consultant actually did. Meanwhile Sinead, who was awash with orders for her jewellery, was regarded with suspicion right from the start. ‘She seems nice enough,’ Mum said coolly, after their first meeting.

Frozen pizza and oven chips aren’t exactly top-quality fare, but it’s what the boys want for dinner and, anyway, we can eat whatever we want now and to hell with it. I walk Scout in the rain, which seems to suit the new weekend mood. Back home, soaked to the bones, I run a bath and clamber into it, convincing myself that of course Sinead isn’t out on a date right now, canoodling in some bar with her tongue in someone’s mouth, but merely watching a box set with Abby.

I mean, she left me on Wednesday night and it’s only Sunday evening. Surely no one could meet someone that quickly, unless … she’s been seeing someone else all along?

I eye my phone, which I have placed on the side of the bath in case she wants to talk to me. A text pings in from my mother: Very upset after the way you snapped at me today. Spoke to Joe. We are both v worried. He thinks you might be having some kind of breakdown?

Let them think what they want, I decide, placing my phone back on the side of the bath and reclining into the warm water. Let them discuss my mental health and the fact that I was a little offish with Mum today. However, I know the truth. My first weekend without my wife is, thankfully, almost over and – whilst hardly brimming with joie de vivre – I have at least survived it.

‘I’m not going to fall apart,’ I say aloud.

And now, when I run through Sinead’s list in my head, another idea starts to form in my mind. Never mind all this cleaning and weeding and snapping at Mum. A kind, loving gesture is what’s needed: something to prove to Sinead that I’m capable of making everything right. I’ll get onto it tomorrow and choose her something thoughtful. But right now, I sense myself drifting, lulled by comforting thoughts of Sinead’s surprised but delighted expression as I turn up at Abby’s with … well, I don’t know what exactly. But I’m sure I’ll think of something.

It’s my wife’s heart-lifting smile I’m thinking of as I stretch out and knock my iPhone with my elbow so it plummets, with a small splash, to the bottom of the bath.

Chapter Ten

Sinead

It’s 7.45 a.m. when my mobile rings. Wrapped in a towel, I race from Abby’s bathroom to my bedroom in order to retrieve it. HOME is displayed on the screen.

‘Hello?’ I bark in panic. No one ever uses our house phone.

‘Hi,’ Nate says.

‘Nate? What is it? What’s wrong?’ It comes out more sharply than I’d intended.

‘Erm, nothing. I just …’

‘Why are you calling me on the landline?’

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