Bad Mother's Diary: a feel good romantic comedy with a heart-warming happily ever after

by Suzy K Quinn

  Thursday, October 13th

  Decided to write today off as a failed diet. ‘Damage limitation’ or something like that.

  It was all rainy and miserable, and I ended up eating half a packet of cream crackers with big slices of cheddar cheese.

  Still, I did manage to go out for a run. The first really good one since Alex stopped coming.

  I ran for HOURS! Amazing. I’ll have to remember to eat cream crackers and cheese before the marathon.

  Friday, October 14th

  Did some shopping in the village this morning.

  Bumped into Clarissa while I was coming out of the chemist.

  I had a box of suppositories in my hand called ‘Anusoids’. Why do they give them names like that? Why can’t they call them private tablets or secret medicine?

  Clarissa gave me that ‘Oh, you’re really not coping, are you?’ smile of hers.

  ‘Has Nick been in touch?’ she asked. ‘I hear he and Sadie are making a go of things. Living together …’

  Bad news travels fast in this village.

  ‘I’ve barely seen him,’ I said. ‘Nor has Daisy.’

  She gave me lots of pitying nods, then told me how lucky she is to have her husband. He brings her glasses of water while she’s breastfeeding and ready meals from Marks and Spencer’s when she’s tired.

  Then she asked if I’d seen Alex lately.

  I said no.

  ‘I heard you two go running together,’ she said. ‘Was that just a rumour?’

  I said we had gone running. But I hadn’t heard from Alex in weeks. And then stupidly, I added, ‘I miss him actually.’

  Clarissa raised her eyebrow and said, ‘Look. Friend to friend, I saw Alex a few days ago. At the Yacht Club. Talking to Rebecca Castle. You know – Penny Castle’s daughter?’

  Ugh.

  I mean yes, yes I know that Alex and I were never going to happen in the real world. But felt like I’d been punched in the stomach.

  After Clarissa left, I caught sight of myself in the chemist window and realised I had toothpaste in my hair.

  Secretly, I quite like embracing the ‘I’m so sleep-deprived I can’t be bothered’ look. But toothpaste is a step too far, even for me.

  Mums like Clarissa, with full make-up, styled hair and conservative yet fashionable clothes first thing in the morning ruin it for all the rest of us.

  Saturday, October 15th

  Hoped it would be rainy today so I could take Daisy to the soft play area. That way, I could sit around drinking tea while she chewed soft toys.

  But it was sunny, so I had to take her out.

  It was alright actually. Went to the play park. Cold, but sun shining. Felt better than I have in ages.

  I think bumping into Clarissa sorted me out a bit.

  Just like the thing with Nick, sometimes knowing a door is closed makes you feel better. It hurts, but at least you know you can’t go back. You have to move forward.

  So am turning the page, re: Alex. Feel better today. Lighter. And ready to move on.

  Sunday, October 16th

  More training with Laura. Hated it, but am making progress.

  I am going to do this marathon.

  I am!

  Not because of a bet with Nick. Not to show Alex. I’m going to do it for Daisy. To show her women can overcome pain and humiliation and still reach the finish line.

  Monday, October 17th

  Mum took Daisy out to ‘give me a break’, so I decided to Facebook-stalk Sadie.

  Sadie’s wall was full of selfies, as per usual.

  Look at me wearing this hat! And another hat! Look at me with this lovely-looking cake!

  And then … Look at me in my new maternity coat with my boyfriend, Nick Spencer …

  I checked her relationship status, and it said,

  ‘In a relationship with Nick Spencer.’

  Ouch.

  Ouch, ouch, ouch.

  But I didn’t wallow in self-pity.

  I really, truly don’t want Nick back anymore. I don’t want things to be how they were. I was too good for him.

  It still hurts, but Sadie is welcome to him.

  Tuesday, October 18th

  HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JULESY!!

  Good things always happen on my birthday. And this year was no exception.

  Mum made the traditional Duffy birthday breakfast (fried bread, fried eggs, black pudding, sausages, hash browns, potato smiley faces, toast, chips, baked beans with butter mixed in them, crispy bacon and then Mum’s special extra – brown sauce mixed with pork scratchings).

  After breakfast, I was looking on Facebook for my shower of birthday love and found a new Facebook message.

  From Alex.

  There was no profile picture of him, just that little question-mark face thing.

  I thought it must be a joke at first. Brandi messing around or something.

  The message said:

  Happy Birthday, Juliette.

  I read and re-read the message, my heart yammering away.

  Then I shouted, ‘Brandi? Is that you doing this on Facebook?’

  Brandi shouted back that she definitely was NOT on Facebook because she was ‘having a shit’. Although I know full well, she uses Facebook while she’s on the toilet.

  My fingers got all shaky then. And I wrote back, ‘Thank you.’

  Then I got another message saying, ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I wrote. ‘Is that really you, Alex?’

  ‘Yes it’s me,’ came the reply. ‘Alex with the flashy car.’

  So then I knew it was really him.

  So, my fingers REALLY shaking, I wrote, ‘I haven’t seen you for a while. How come?’ And clicked send.

  I waited, praying he’d reply because if he didn’t, I’d feel like a complete idiot.

  After seven minutes (yes – I was counting) I got a reply: ‘I heard you were talking things through with Daisy’s father.’

  Whoa!

  My heart was absolutely pounding when I read that.

  I don’t think I’ve ever typed a reply so fast.

  I wrote that I’d only seen Nick once, but there was practical stuff to sort out with Daisy. And yes, Nick and I had talked on the phone the day after our car drive, but I’d told him to arrange things through my solicitor.

  ‘I heard there was a little more to it than that,’ Alex wrote. ‘I was told the two of you were working on a reconciliation.’

  ‘According to who?’ I messaged.

  ‘You mean ‘whom’,’ he replied.

  ‘Well tell whomever it was that they’re talking out of their arse and have it completely wrong,’ I wrote.

  ‘I will happily tell Helen Jolly-Piggott exactly that,’ he replied.

  I was absolutely furious! That fucking interfering bitch.

  I took a few deep breathes and wrote, ‘You shouldn’t listen to gossip. Especially coming from Helen.’

  ‘You’re quite right,’ he replied. ‘But when you expect to hear a certain piece of news, sometimes you get it.’

  I told him Nick and I were totally finished, and although I respected him as Daisy’s father (sort of), there was no way I’d ever get back with him. Not now. Not after our night together.

  Alex wrote, ‘Do you have plans for your birthday?’

  I wrote back, no. Everyone I know was working or studying or in Cornwall teaching their son the value of shells.

  And then Alex wrote, ‘How about I take you out?’

  I wanted to reply, ‘YES PLEASE’ in big, block capitals, but I tried to be ‘message cool’ to steal one of Brandi’s phrases, and just wrote, ‘That sounds really nice.’

  ‘I’ll pick you up tonight,’ he wrote. ‘Eight o’clock.’

  ‘Are we going running then?’ I asked.

  ‘No,’ he replied. ‘I’m taking you out for your birthday.’

  And then he came up as ‘offline’.

  Felt so happy I thought my chest might explode.

  Spent a
few minutes dancing Daisy around the bedroom.

  Then I started to get paranoid.

  What if Alex is only taking me out so he can sleep with me again? What if I’m just some easy single mum target he’s using for sex? How did he know Nick phoned, and why didn’t he call before that?

  Called Laura. She told me I was beautiful and funny and she always suspected Alex liked me. Zachary thinks so too, apparently.

  Felt better then. But am now panicking about going out tonight.

  Where’s Alex going to take me? What should I wear?

  Brandi offered to give me a makeover and pummelled my body with salt scrub. She dabbed the bleeding bits with t-gel, but I know there’ll be scabs.

  I refused to let her fake-tan me, so she did me a facial instead.

  It took twenty cotton wool balls to get my face clean. She shouted at me for not removing my make-up properly, saying, ‘Did you know that every night you leave make-up on, it ages your skin by seven days?’

  Honestly! She gets all this scaremongering crap from people who sell cosmetics. If what she said were true, I’d look sixty years old.

  I stupidly let her wax my eyebrows and fill them in with black pencil. When she’d finished, I looked like a blonde Cleopatra.

  While we were arguing over my eyebrows, there was a knock at the door.

  In my panicky state, I thought it was Alex – calling four hours too early.

  I screamed, ‘Hide me! He can’t see these eyebrows!’ And tried to climb into the airing cupboard.

  But then Mum shouted up that it was a delivery man. With a great big pink box.

  For a moment, I thought it might be a present from Nick. A big sorry gift. Begging for me to forgive him and take him back.

  He never remembers my birthday, though.

  Brandi read the card and was like, ‘NO! You will NEVER guess who this is from. You will never guess!’

  It was from Alex.

  He hadn’t put any kisses in the card or anything. It just said, ‘This is for tonight. Alex.’

  No ‘love’ or anything like that.

  My stomach did a load of lovely somersaults.

  I think I must have been giggling or squealing or something, because Mum said, ‘Calm down, Cleopatra. And let’s find out what it is.’

  It was a beautiful dress in pink silk.

  Stunning. Just stunning. Sort of vintage 1940s, with a big skirt and tight waist.

  And there were matching shoes – grey ballet pumps made from swirled silk.

  Mum went on about how ‘me’ it was because I love ‘all that vintage crap’, and how Alex must have been paying attention.

  Brandi googled the dress label and confirmed it was from a very expensive designer.

  Then Mum got out her shoebox of diamante and talked about adding a bit more sparkle. But I wouldn’t let her.

  The dress was absolutely perfect. So perfect I was sort of scared to try it on. I mean, what if it didn’t fit? It was a European dress size, which I think equated to a UK size 12, which I was certain wouldn’t fit.

  Everyone knows men are usually terrible at knowing women’s dress sizes.

  But it did fit. Perfectly.

  And I realised – fucking hell, I really am looking better after all this running. I’ve lost weight, and my legs are much more svelte. A better shape. And everything is just more … held in.

  I didn’t want to take the dress off, but Daisy woke up, and I was worried it would get covered in dribble. So I laid it carefully back in the box ready for tonight.

  I’ll be honest, I am totally shitting myself.

  I’m just so nervous. It was never like this with Nick.

  Oooooo! Need a wee again!

  Wednesday, October 19th

  Should have been the most amazing night ever.

  But it wasn’t.

  Stupid Nick.

  Alex picked me up at eight o’clock on the dot.

  I was pretty much ready. He only had to shout at me twice to hurry up.

  A driver took us into London in this big wedding car thing. In fact, it was fancier than my wedding car.

  And Alex looked a lot better than my groom – black suit, white shirt, black bow tie.

  I got even more nervous, thinking – fucking hell, we’re going somewhere really fancy.

  Alex said I looked ‘stunning’.

  The whole drive, he wouldn’t tell me where we were going. He got quite stern about it actually. When I kept asking.

  London was frosty and felt magic. The streets were sparkling, the sky was dark, and the air smelt of roast chestnuts.

  FINALLY, we stopped outside the London Coliseum, which was covered from top to bottom with long, straight strings of fairy lights.

  Alex told me we were seeing Swan Lake. Which is a ballet.

  He said I’d love it and he was right.

  It was beautiful.

  Of course, it helped that we had our own balcony. And a bottle of champagne.

  When I asked Alex how the ballerinas stood on their toes without swearing, he told me they spent their whole lives practising discipline and restraint.

  I said that seemed a bit sad. That they gave up so much just to look beautiful for other people.

  Alex squeezed my hand and whispered, ‘They retire before they’re thirty. And spend the rest of their lives eating boxes of Godiva chocolate. Don’t feel too sorry for them.’

  We held hands the whole way through. And then, just near the end, Nick rang.

  SOO embarrassing.

  MC Hammer – Can’t Touch This blaring out across the auditorium.

  I ran out to take the call in the stairwell.

  Nick was all slurry and drunk, telling me I should be at home with Daisy.

  I asked him how he knew I was out.

  He said he’d phoned the pub and Mum had told him.

  I said it was my birthday.

  ‘Is it?’ he replied.

  Then he said he wanted to see me. And that he wanted things to be how they were.

  Why does life happen like that? When I wanted him to beg for forgiveness, he didn’t. And now I’m moving on, he says everything I wanted to hear months ago.

  Nick got all teary and angry, and I ended up hanging up on him.

  Then I rang Mum and checked everything was okay with Daisy.

  I heard Mum say, ‘Spit it out, Daisy! Spit it out! Oh, you’ve swallowed it …’

  I shouted, ‘WHAT HAS SHE SWALLOWED!’

  Mum said it was just something brown she’d found on the floor and it would ‘all come out the other end’. Then she told me I used to eat gravel as a baby.

  Panicked for a bit. Phoned back and made Mum put Daisy on the phone. Daisy was making her usual noises, so felt better.

  When I got back to the balcony, Alex didn’t look at me. He didn’t take my hand again either.

  He was quiet in the car on the way back.

  Just as we were arriving at the village, Alex said, ‘Look, if you want to make a go of things with Daisy’s father, I’m not going to stand in your way. It’s the right thing. For Daisy to have a family.’

  ‘I don’t want to make a go of things with Nick,’ I insisted. ‘Not anymore.’

  ‘And yet you take calls from him at nine o’clock at night,’ said Alex, not looking at me.

  Just to make things worse, Nick was WAITING OUTSIDE the Oakley Arms.

  He looked pretty drunk, swaying around with a can of gin and tonic in his hand.

  Alex’s jaw went all hard and twitchy, and he said, ‘Sleep well’ in this really formal voice like he was reading the news.

  And off he went. Not so much as a goodbye kiss or anything.

  As soon as Alex was gone, Nick came lurching towards me doing his big smouldering puppy-dog eyes.

  He’d been waiting on the doorstep ‘for hours’ apparently.

  ‘What would Sadie think if she saw you here?’ I shouted.

  He said he couldn’t give a fuck what ‘that high-maintenance cow’
thought. Apparently, Sadie won’t even let him sleep in the bed anymore. She says he farts in his sleep.

  Then Nick said we had a child together and shouldn’t we try to make things work?

  I asked why the sudden change of heart.

  ‘Maybe I’m jealous,’ he laughed. ‘Your mum told me who you were out with. You know I hate Alex Dalton.’

  Eventually, I said Nick could sleep on the sofa. He was way too drunk to get home – I have no clue how he even got here in that state. He can’t read a train timetable at the best of times.

  At some point, Nick got into bed with me and started pulling the moves.

  It was all so familiar I almost found myself going along with it. I mean, Nick was pretty sexy when we first got together.

  Luckily, I was awake enough to push him away.

  Nick acted all innocent and hurt.

  ‘Come on Jules,’ he said. ‘You know you want to. I want you back, Jules. I made a mistake. A stupid mistake. We’re good together. You know we are.’

  Then he said he just wanted to spend the night in bed with me. Like old times. And he wouldn’t try anything. He was lonely and blah, blah, blah.

  I was so tired.

  So like an idiot I let him stay.

  This morning, Brandi came bursting in and saw us together.

  ‘This is SO not what it looks like,’ I told her.

  I have to admit it did look bad.

  Nick was stark naked.

  He must have flung off his clothes at some point in the night.

  I shook Nick awake and told him he needed to leave.

  God, he reeked of booze. He pulled his underwear on and asked if I wanted to grab a bacon sandwich with him at the village deli.

  I told him to sod off.

  He checked his watch and said, ‘Actually, no time anyway. Sadie’s going to freak. Can I give Daisy a kiss goodbye?’

  He picked up Daisy and gave her big smacking kisses.

  Daisy stared at me like, ‘Mummy, who is this madman?’ Then she started howling and reached out her little arms towards me.

  ‘She’s probably a bit tetchy,’ said Nick. ‘First thing in the morning. Like Daddy, aren’t you? Daddy hates mornings too. Love you Daisy boo.’

  Then he left, promising to see us soon.