Behaviour the Supermarket Mum had told me? I knew to be true.
On returning home, I abandoned the groceries. I flung the bathroom door open; my unsuspecting daughter sat in a bath full of bubbles.
I screeched, I raged about the tale I had just been told.
I reiterated The Big I Am’s dead parent lie which was circulated to all women of interest to capture a weak and vulnerable heart.
Bella grabbed a towel, wrapped it around her body without drying, and marched to her room. Connected to Mr Big I Am via her mobile phone, then emerged herself back under the bubbles. She locked the bathroom door.
Ten minutes rushed by, flash car did not come up the drive; it was parked on the road instead. Suited and booted, Mr Big I Am strode up the drive, and gave a firm rat-a-tat-tat on the front door.
‘What do you want?’ I asked.
‘To see Bella.’
‘You can’t she’s in the bath.’
He delivered a cold stare much meaner than mine. ‘You can’t stop me seeing her.’
I sidestepped to give him access.
He took the stairs two at a time to gain entry to the bathroom. I went to the kitchen. I did not want to hear the bilge that would trickle from his mouth.
A half hour dragged by. He slammed the front door.
I took those stairs faster than he had.
‘Everything’s sorted,’ Bella said. ‘He’s going to have words with New Girl, about her mum.’ With tales to tell.
Could Bella not see what a waste of space Mr Big I Am was?
In the mist of bubbles, he asked Bella to marry him.