The Bad Mother's Detox

by Suzy K Quinn

  We smiled at each other.

  Then he plucked a giant daisy from the flower arrangement, knelt down to Daisy’s pram and said, ‘This is for you.’

  Daisy chewed the flower thoughtfully, then gave little coughing retches and regurgitated a few stiff white petals.

  Decided I’d better hold on to the bouquet after that.

  Thanked Alex again for the Valentine’s gifts.

  The doorman helped lift Daisy’s pram into the lobby, setting the muddy tyres on the sparkling marble floor. Then a caretaker appeared with a golden dustpan and brush.

  ‘Well done, Philip,’ said Alex, clapping him on the back. ‘Fastidious as always.’

  The caretaker told Alex about the new floor polish he’d been using – which had some sort of special sealant. He eyed the Maclaren wheels again and said, ‘I’ll follow you through to the sitting room. Just to be on the safe side.’

  ‘Your staff are very diligent,’ I said, as we were shown to a table.

  ‘Yes,’ Alex said. ‘And loyal.’

  Alex poured tea, and told me about a function this week – some black-tie thing at the Mayfair Dalton.

  ‘I can’t get out of it,’ he said. ‘But I wondered if you’d come as my guest. A driver can pick you up.’

  ‘Are you sure you want me there?’ I asked. ‘Won’t you be doing business stuff?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Alex. ‘But I’m sure we can snatch a few moments. Your sister is going, by the way. With Zachary.’

  Ah, my beautiful big sister Laura. Coming to the party on the arm of Alex’s dashing younger brother.

  When Laura and Zach got together last year, I was so happy for her. To think! Laura Duffy, going out with a Dalton. And now I am too. Crazy!

  I adore Laura, but life can be hard living in her shadow. She inherited Dad’s straight hair, meaning she’s one of those polished blondes who look effortlessly classy. And she keeps healthy like Dad, but has inherited Mum’s boobs, meaning her figure is perfect and amazing.

  I, on the other hand, am a mess of browny-blonde curls and have inherited both Mum’s boobs and her bad eating habits.

  Alex didn’t mention staying overnight or anything, but … maybe things will happen.

  Thursday 16th February

  Mediation session.

  Very weird, having it in the village church.

  You’d think a holy place wouldn’t allow separated partners to slag each other off. But I suppose Christianity has to move with the times.

  Was surreal, walking down the aisle again.

  Fiona Skelton waited in a side-room by the altar – a sad-faced woman in loose, grey wool clothing. She stood by a whiteboard, and welcomed me with a floppy handshake.

  The whiteboard had faded writing on it:

  ’Ten Reasons Why We Love Jesus’.

  The reasons only went up to eight.

  ‘Shall we get started?’ said Fiona, cleaning the whiteboard.

  ‘Yes,’ I said eagerly. ‘Do you want to know why Nick and I broke up?’

  ‘I don’t feel we need to look backwards,’ said Fiona. ‘Let’s look to the future.’

  Felt cheated.

  If you can’t slag off your ex-partner in mediation, where can you?

  Fiona neatly sidestepped all my attempts to badmouth Nick and his family, and stuck to her own list of stupid questions.

  Answered them easily:

  Yes, I am happy to undergo mediation.

  No, I won’t drink or take drugs during the sessions.

  No, I won’t raise my voice in the car park.

  Then Fiona looked over my financials, benefits, child tax credit stuff, etc. and signed forms for legal aid.

  Nick will be at the next mediation session.

  Oh joy.

  Friday 17th February

  Why is sending a text message so difficult when you have kids?

  I suppose it’s all the distractions.

  NO Daisy, you can’t play with the toilet brush. OR chew the toilet brush! OR clean Mummy’s clothes with it!

  Meant to message Laura SO many times today – re: Alex’s black-tie thing, but she’ll be asleep by now.

  Laura goes to bed early, so she can jog at 5am before pollution levels rise.

  She runs ten miles most mornings, then eats raw vegetables for breakfast.

  Saturday 18th February

  Finally sent a message to Laura.

  She’s worrying about the black-tie thing too – specifically what to wear/say/do around Zach’s business associates.

  Ridiculous for Laura to worry. She’d make a tracksuit look classy and never says the wrong thing or drinks too much.

  I, on the other hand, have a phobia of an empty glass – especially when I’m feeling nervous.

  Should probably set a phone reminder – Don’t drink too much.

  Messaged Alex to hint about possibly staying overnight, but I don’t think he understood because he texted back, ‘If you need an early night, I can have a driver take you home.’

  Sunday 19th February

  Lovely Alex.

  He’s just sent me a dress with a note saying, ‘A late Valentine’s gift from Paris, for the black-tie event.’

  It’s a ball gown, which I wasn’t expecting.

  The skirt is very full, and the corset top makes my boobs look massive, but there’s a chiffon shrug to cover them. Well – one of them.

  Have chosen the left.

  Daisy is fast asleep in the travel cot, sucking her thumb.

  Am getting a bit worried about her thumb sucking now. It’s definitely pushed her teeth into different shapes, and I think she has a lisp. Although Mum says it’s a rare one-year-old who pronounces ‘Ribena’ properly.

  Monday 20th February

  Black-tie thing was okay.

  Didn’t get to see Alex much, but that was to be expected.

  On arrival, Alex took me on a tour of the canapé tables. He shook hands with lots of people and talked about hotel finance, then asked Zach and Laura to take care of me while he had a ‘quick meeting’ in the conference room.

  Was nice to see Zach and Laura.

  Zach was his usual charming, friendly self, guffawing at things that weren’t very funny and patting people on the back. He’d shaved his blond beard off, and looked very grown up in a black suit and tie.

  Laura was elegant and serene, gliding around on Zach’s arm and smiling at all the right times. She remained beautiful and poised all evening, not a hair or word out of place.

  I dropped a smoked salmon canapé down my dress within a minute of arriving, and felt the need to repeatedly explain that it wasn’t baby vomit.

  Then my alarm went off just as I was showing off pictures of Daisy, and the words ‘Don’t drink too much’ flashed on my iPhone screen for all to see.

  Asked Zach when Alex would come back.

  ‘If they’ve got him in the conference room, you won’t see him for the rest of the evening,’ said Zach. ‘There’ll be some crisis or other he has to deal with.’

  Most of the women at the party were in their early twenties, and evidentially childless by their flat stomachs, stain-free clothing and carefree laughter.

  ‘I don’t have anything in common with these people,’ I told Zach and Laura. ‘This is business land. And I’m from mother world.’

  ‘There must be someone here who has a baby,’ Laura soothed.

  ‘I know!’ Zach announced, clapping his hands together. ‘Joanna Mittal has several children. She’s right over there.’

  He led me to a twitchy, blonde woman in a sleek, black trouser suit.

  ‘Joanna,’ Zach said, pushing me forward. ‘Allow me to introduce a friend of mine. Juliette Duffy.’

  ‘Hallo,’ the woman announced, shaking my hand with urgency. ‘Joanna Mittal. Where do you work?’

  One of Joanna’s fake eyelashes was slightly loose and she didn’t seem to have noticed, so I had high hopes she might be just as exhausted as me.

  ‘This is Juli
ette,’ said Zach. ‘A friend of Alex’s. Juliette has a baby. So we thought the two of you … well, ah. You might have things to talk about.’

  Then Zach melted into the crowd.

  ‘So, you have a baby?’ Joanna enquired, holding out her champagne glass for a refill. ‘How old?’

  ‘Eighteen months,’ I said. ‘She was a bloody nightmare this evening. I had to rock her to sleep in front of In the Night Garden. How many children do you have?’

  ‘Two,’ said Joanna, eyelashes twitching. ‘Twin boys. Full of energy. But they haven’t changed me.’ She pulled a business card from her suit pocket. ‘This is what I do.’

  I took the card and read: ‘Show me the Mittal – for all your PR, marketing, social media, consultancy, design, web, PowerPoint presentation, Excel spread sheet and Word document needs.’

  ‘You do a lot,’ I remarked.

  ‘We’re expanding this year,’ Joanna said, eyelashes still flickering. ‘So, what do you do? Where do you work? Do you work?’

  ‘I’ve just gone back,’ I said. ‘I work for a charity. Give a Damn.’

  ‘Who does their PR?’ Joanna asked. ‘Do they have a Facebook page?’

  ‘Um … not sure,’ I said. ‘By the way, how did you manage to dress and leave the house with twins at home?’

  ‘There are sacrifices,’ said Joanna, taking a rapid gulp of champagne. ‘Sleep. Birthdays. School holidays. But THE REWARDS ARE WORTH IT! So, you’re Alex’s friend, did you say?’

  ‘Sort of a friend,’ I mumbled. ‘Kind of a … girlfriend sort of friend.’

  That got her attention. ‘His girlfriend?’ She scrutinised my tired face. ‘You’re … so he’s a … you have a baby together? Catrina would have … was there a christening?’

  I was forced to explain, red-faced, that the baby didn’t belong to Alex.

  ‘Oo-oo-oh,’ she said, still studying my face.

  ‘Alex doesn’t seem to mind.’ I reddened. ‘Actually, he’s very good with Daisy.’

  ‘But she’s not his?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Who’d have thought!’ Joanna gave a sharp laugh.

  I tried to change the subject. ‘So, tell me about—’

  Then Alex appeared.

  ‘Juliette, there you are,’ he said. ‘Hello Joanna. How’s the family?’

  ‘They’re ABSOLUTELY fine,’ said Joanna. ‘Don’t listen to Deepak. He’s never back more than five minutes. How he can criticise … now listen – you’ll have to fill me in. This young lady tells me she’s your girlfriend. And yet I’ve never met her before! How can this be?’

  Alex gave a half smile. ‘Juliette is mercifully different from my usual acquaintances. So she doesn’t know many people at a Dalton launch party.’

  Joanna looked startled. Then she gave a high, fake laugh and said, ‘And she has a baby.’

  ‘A beautiful baby,’ said Alex. ‘Whom I love very much. And see rather less often than I’d like.’

  ‘Oh Alex,’ said Joanna, blinking rapidly at him. ‘Come off it. Don’t tease the poor girl. She must know it’s business first with you. Just like Deepak. Ha ha! Well – I should get back. There’s a new au pair due at Heathrow any minute, and Deepak refuses to pick her up. And he knows I need to get to Manchester tomorrow.’

  After Joanna had stridden away, I said to Alex, ‘Different from your usual acquaintances?’

  Alex kissed me on the forehead and said, ‘Exactly right. You’re the most genuine person I know. And funny too. Often without meaning to be.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You and Joanna seemed to be having a nice chat,’ Alex continued. ‘I was worried I’d left you stranded.’

  ‘You did leave me stranded,’ I said.

  ‘I warned you it was a work thing. You didn’t mind, did you?’

  He did warn me. But I did mind.

  ‘Listen, are you staying?’ Alex asked. ‘Did you bring your overnight things?’

  ‘I wasn’t sure if you wanted … I didn’t bring anything for overnight,’ I said.

  ‘I can have things brought for you,’ he said. ‘If you want.’

  ‘I’m not sure I can now,’ I said. ‘I have mediation with Nick tomorrow.’

  Alex frowned. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I haven’t seen you all evening.’

  ‘I’m assuming you found out before this evening.’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘Juliette, you said you’d tell me. If you were seeing him.’

  ‘I know I sort of said … but Alex, I don’t have to check in with you every time I see Nick.’

  ‘I’ll have a driver take you home.’

  He didn’t kiss me goodbye.

  Tuesday 21st February

  Mediation session with Nick.

  Poor timing meant we bumped into each other in the car park.

  Nick looked vulnerable, an oversized scarf wrapped over his leather jacket.

  He gave me a subdued, ‘Hi.’

  ‘How’s Horatio?’ I asked.

  ‘Still vomming all the time,’ said Nick. ‘I’ve got a new name for him now. Hurl-ratio.’

  ‘And how’s Sadie?’ I asked. ‘What does she think about you trying for residency?’

  ‘She doesn’t know,’ said Nick. ‘And I’d like to keep it that way. No sense rocking the boat before I need to. Horry’s at a sensitive age. I mean, I may not even get residency.’

  ‘God, Nick.’ I shook my head in disgust. ‘Of course you won’t get residency. You’ve been absent for months. You’re not paying to support your daughter and you’re in a volatile relationship with a fellow actor.’

  As we walked towards the church, an old lady opened her back window and shouted, ‘Don’t start f-ing and blinding you two – I’ve got Poldark on catch up.’

  Fiona Skelton was waiting for us at the altar, wearing her usual grey robes and pitying smile.

  She had the whiteboard and pen ready.

  Today, the faded writing said, ‘What does God really look like?’

  ‘We’re going to do some groundwork,’ said Fiona. ‘And hopefully set the stage for some positive changes. Today is all about understanding what the two of you want from each other and for Daisy. Maybe we can avoid court, after all.’

  Then Fiona asked questions, nodding sympathetically at the answers and throwing in an occasional, ‘How does that make you feel?’ and, ‘Mmm’.

  The best part of mediation was when Fiona told Nick to get a stable job.

  ‘That’s definitely top of my agenda,’ Nick said. ‘I’m hoping to show Juliette she can trust me again.’

  Fiona gave a tired smile. ‘Oh, that’s wonderful, Nick. Trust is crucial.’

  I laughed. ‘Nick hasn’t paid a penny in child support and had a baby with my bridesmaid. Would you trust him?’

  ‘Mmm,’ said Fiona. ‘How does that make you feel?’

  Nick and I disagreed for the next hour, with Fiona looking on sympathetically.

  I don’t know if Nick was trying to impress Fiona, or make a point for court, but he kept going on about us getting back together.

  Anyway, of course we couldn’t agree on anything, so Fiona signed the Child Arrangement Order papers.

  Surprised Nick hasn’t backed off yet, but I’m sure he will. As soon as he works out this tactic won’t win me back or get him out of maintenance payments.

  Wednesday 22nd February

  ‘Official’ training at work today in the 1970s conference room.

  Tried to stay awake, but it was difficult.

  On the positive side, there were bottles of fizzy mineral water, silver flasks of coffee and little packets of caramelised Biscoff biscuits.

  Had a discussion (row) with Hari about morality.

  It got quite heated at one point. I had to stand up and wave my finger.

  Hari seems to think charities are all about avoiding taxes.

  Ended up angrily Googling statistics about mosquito nets and holding my phone inches from Hari’
s face.

  I don’t think it made any difference.

  Hari is still convinced that some third-world children catch malaria to get free trainers.

  Thursday 23rd February

  Finally!

  A call from Alex.

  But not a good call.

  ‘I thought you’d forgotten me,’ I said.

  ‘How’s the job going?’ he asked.

  ‘Not great,’ I admitted.

  ‘I don’t like the sound of your boss,’ said Alex. ‘He has all the makings of a scam artist.’ Then he said, ‘Listen, I was thinking about you and Daisy’s father. This mediation business. You should have some space. Work out what you really want.’

  ‘I know what I really want,’ I said.

  ‘Are you sure about that? You and Nick Spencer clearly have unresolved issues.’

  ‘Of course we do,’ I said. ‘We probably always will. But he’s Daisy’s biological father, Alex. And he loves her in his own way.’

  Silence.

  Then Alex said, ‘There are things you need to think about. I have to go now. Goodbye Juliette.’

  Friday 24th February

  Daisy has hundreds of beautiful soft teddies, but her bedtime comforter is a frayed, smelly old blanket.

  I have to put her to bed with it every night, or she screams, ‘Manket! Manket!’

  Then I have to do the funky chicken dance (I should NEVER have got into that habit) and sing all five verses of the Hokey Cokey before she’ll let me leave the room.

  Saturday 25th February

  Althea and I took Daisy and Wolfgang to Queen Victoria Park today, just outside the village.

  It’s a bit more of a trek, but worth it because the play equipment is made from very sturdy plastic and Wolfgang hasn’t broken anything there yet.

  We were sawing up homemade spelt bread on a picnic bench, when Althea grabbed my arm.

  ‘Jules,’ she said. ‘Your worst nightmare just arrived.’

  I turned to see Nick’s mum, pushing baby Horatio into the play park.

  Beside her was Penelope Dearheart, carrying a wriggling, redheaded toddler who I took to be her granddaughter.