Bad Mother's Holiday - Hilarious Summer Holiday Reading! Read online

  It just goes to show, people don’t change. No matter what they tell you.

  Afternoon

  Toilet blocked.

  Not sure what caused the toilet blockage, but I suspect John Boy.

  All those Pot Noodles.

  Mum has promised to come over later with a plunger and a sledgehammer. She’s happy to get out of the house, because Dad keeps going on about campsites in Norfolk.

  ‘It’s verging on bullying,’ said Mum. ‘He just won’t shut up about it.’

  Don’t think Mum really understands bullying. To bully her would be nigh on impossible.

  Thursday 24th May

  Alex is en-route to London for Zach and Laura’s wedding. He phoned me from the airport executive lounge, annoyed at the ‘chaos’ of charter flights.

  I asked Alex if he had his top hat ready. He said because of the ‘informality’ of this particular wedding, he wouldn’t wear his usual top hat. A three-piece suit would be sufficient.

  It’s weird.

  We get on great when we don’t have any expectations of each other. So great that it’s easy to start thinking, ‘Maybe things could work out.’ But we’ve been down that road. And anyway, there’s no way I’d start anything with Bethany on the scene.

  Laura thinks Alex isn’t ready for commitment yet. ‘Men mature slower than women,’ she said. ‘You’ve just got to wait until he gets all that business stuff out of the way, and then he’ll move back to Great Oakley and be a great husband and father.’

  ‘But Zach is younger than him,’ I pointed out. ‘And he’s already in settling down mode.’

  ‘Zach isn’t a typical Dalton,’ said Laura. ‘Alex is.’

  ‘But why should I wait?’ I said. ‘Don’t I deserve better than someone who isn’t quite ready to commit, but might be one day? And is stringing along some poor Sloane Ranger girl?’

  ‘Of course you do,’ said Laura. ‘That’s the whole trouble.’

  Friday 25th May

  It’s Laura’s ‘not-really-a-wedding’ tomorrow.

  Weird to think of my big sis as a married woman.

  Feels like yesterday we were cutting up Barbie dresses.

  Am still a little bit hurt that Laura isn’t having bridesmaids. Brandi doesn’t want to get married, and Althea will never marry in a conventional way, so Laura was my last hope.

  Tried to convince Laura to come over the pub today for pre-wedding pampering, but she refused even that, saying she doesn’t want a fuss.

  Have a slight wedding-wardrobe malfunction, in that my lemon-chiffon dress is see-through in the wrong light.

  I knew something was wrong when Brandi said I looked, ‘smokin’.

  Mum was complimentary too, telling me it was about time I showed off what God gave me.

  Double-checked myself in the hallway mirror, and realised my underwear was clearly visible, including the coloured stars on my pants.

  I know British consumer law is flimsy, but I thought the EU were all over this sort of thing.

  Ended up wearing jogging shorts and a vest underneath, much to Brandi and Mum’s disappointment.

  Mum wore an outfit with lots of pink feathers and a matching fascinator.

  Brandi wore a very tasteful silky dress that went all the way down to her mid-thigh and barely showed any cleavage. She looked really lovely. I forget sometimes that, under all that makeup, Brandi is very attractive.

  Maybe things really are serious with ‘long streak of piss’ Richie. I can’t think of any other reason Brandi would dress sensibly – she is certainly no respecter of formal occasions and wore fishnet tights to my wedding.

  Dad wore the same brown suit he’s had since he and Mum married in the seventies.

  To be fair, it does still fit him. I suppose it’s easy to keep in shape when you live off wholemeal bread and vegetables.

  Evening

  Nick just phoned.

  Sadie is meeting an agent in Leeds this weekend, so the house will be de-witched.

  Nick asked if he could have Daisy, and I said yes.

  It’ll be good to enjoy Laura’s wedding without having a two-year old running around. And by enjoy, I mean get drunk.

  I wish they’d put a legal limit on alcohol and parenting. Then we’d all be clear about what counts as too much. You can’t drive a car after two pints of Guinness, but you can parent a child after a bottle of vodka. It seems wrong, somehow. Not the driving ban. The parenting boozy free-for-all.

  Possibly, the government thinks parents are responsible enough to set their own limits, but limits have never been my forte with addictive substances.

  I’m one of those people they invented the term ‘share size’ for – to remind me not to plough my way through the whole packet.

  Saturday 26th May

  Just dropped Daisy off at Nick’s.

  Nick said, ‘What are you all dressed up for?’

  Told him it was Laura’s wedding day.

  ‘Who’s she marrying?’ Nick asked.

  ‘Zach Dalton,’ I said. ‘The man she had a baby with.’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ said Nick. ‘I’d forgotten about that. Mum says Catrina’s not happy about it.’

  ‘Catrina’s not happy about the wedding?’ I asked. ‘Surely that’s not true.’

  ‘It’s just what I heard,’ said Nick, with a nonchalant shrug.

  Trust Nick to be such a downer.

  ‘Catrina must be okay about the wedding,’ I said. ‘She’s been badgering Laura about dresses and Burt Bacharach.’

  Nick snorted. ‘Catrina just wants to make sure Zach Dalton’s wedding cuts the mustard. That’s what they’re like, those Daltons. It’s all about image. I bet you a tenner Catrina doesn’t come.’

  Told Nick he was being ridiculous. Catrina may be self-centred and narcissistic, but not to show up at the wedding … no way.

  Late evening

  Catrina Dalton didn’t turn up to the wedding, which not only ruined Laura’s day, but also means I owe Nick a tenner.

  If I ever get the chance to speak to Catrina again … how could she do that to Laura? How dare she?

  Arrived at 10.30am for the 11am Mayfair Dalton wedding ceremony.

  Felt sad we didn’t ‘go backstage’ to help the bride get ready, but that was how Laura wanted it – no fuss or heavy make-up or anything.

  ‘We’re just two adults making a legal commitment,’ Laura told me. ‘I’m putting on a dress and getting ready just like I would any other day. I don’t want any of the circus.’

  The ceremony room was simple but pretty, decorated with archways of country flowers, and those ivory-coloured chairs you always see at wedding receptions.

  Alex was sitting on the groom’s side when I arrived, frowning at his hands. Bethany wasn’t with him.

  Zach paced back and forth, dressed like a man trying to keep many different people happy. He’d gelled back his straggly, blond surfer hair into a weird Russian gangster look, and wore loose black jeans, leather shoes and a billowy white boho shirt with embroidery around the collar.

  He looked like a hippy drug-smuggler trying to get through border control.

  I sat on the bride’s side with Mum, Dad, Nana Joan and Brandi.

  At precisely 11am, a three-piece orchestra started playing, ‘Mr Brightside’.

  We all turned and saw Laura walking down the petal-strewn aisle. She was stunning but simple, in a light-blue cotton dress with lots of strings and straps everywhere.

  Dad cried happy tears, while Mum held his hand and called him a ‘soft old sod’.

  ‘She’s not wearing white,’ Nana whispered. ‘That’s a bold move. If you did that in my day, you’d get onions thrown at you.’

  Zach and Laura exchanged simple vows, but Laura seemed distracted, looking around and biting her lip.

  After their simple ‘I do’s’, Laura and Zach turned to greet the room as a married couple.

  Laura managed a stoic smile, then burst into tears and half-walked, half-ran out of the room
, crying and shaking her head.

  Zach apologised to everyone, then ran after her.

  Mum, Brandi and I followed.

  Laura disappeared into the lady’s powder room, and Zach stood outside, knocking softly on the door and whispering, ‘Darling. Please. It’s okay. Really. It’s nothing personal.’

  Laura called back, ‘How can it not be personal? It’s our wedding day?’

  ‘What’s going on?’ I asked.

  ‘Laura’s got herself a bit upset,’ said Zach. ‘Perhaps you should go in and see her. Calm her down.’

  Inside the powder room, Laura was a sobbing mess.

  ‘Oh love,’ said Mum, kneeling beside her. ‘What happened? Whose legs do I need to break?’

  ‘Zach’s parents didn’t come,’ Laura cried. ‘To our wedding. I know they’re not keen on me. And yes, I did send Catrina’s dress designer away and refused calls from Burt Bacharach’s agent. But I told her over and over again, I don’t want anything fancy.’

  Mum, Brandi and I gathered round, telling Laura not to worry.

  ‘Forget about that posh tart,’ Mum soothed. ‘She’s not worth your tears. Enjoy your day.’

  ‘I just wanted her to give me a chance,’ Laura sobbed. ‘Do you know what Catrina said when Zach reminded her about the wedding? Darling, I have a busy day planned, I’ll see if I can make it. I thought she was joking. I never thought for a moment she wouldn’t come.’

  ‘Your Grandma Eiderdown didn’t come to my wedding,’ said Mum, perching on a velvet stool and patting Laura’s back. ‘She’s never been fond of me. I think because I farted when we first had tea and cakes. But on the positive side, I never had to do any of those camping trips to Scotland. You’ve got a good man in Zach, love. Ignore the rest of the family – Catrina Dalton is bananas.’

  ‘But why didn’t Harold Dalton come?’ Laura asked. ‘Am I that much of a disappointment?’

  ‘Harold Dalton isn’t Zach’s real dad anyway,’ Mum soothed. ‘So what should you care?’

  ‘That’s just a rumour,’ Laura whispered. ‘No one knows for certain.’

  Mum snorted. ‘Everyone knows. You only have to look at Zach. He’s twice the height of his dad and blonde as a cream puff.’

  It’s true that Zach and Harold look different.

  Zach has unwieldy giraffe-like limbs, whereas Harold is a short, compact man, with dark eyes and a broad chest.

  ‘That may be the case,’ said Laura. ‘But Harold treats Zach like his own. Alright, so he hasn’t left him any oil paintings in the will. But he’s never questioned the paternity. He’s not here because he thinks I’m not good enough.’

  Laura’s voice rose to a desperate pitch then, and she cried harder.

  ‘Tell Zach to have a DNA test,’ Mum suggested. ‘Then he can find himself a better father and your worries will be over.’

  We calmed Laura down and eventually went to lunch.

  There were only twenty guests, so we all shared one dining table.

  Alex sat next to Zach, and I sat a few chairs away, beside Laura.

  At first, Alex and Zach were talking about their Irish grandmother, and how much they missed her.

  ‘If she were alive, she would have kept our father in line,’ Alex told Zach. ‘She would have made him celebrate your wedding, no matter what. And she would have brought Laura roses.’

  ‘Yes, she loved roses, didn’t she?’ said Zach. ‘And whisky in a cup and saucer.’

  I leaned back and hissed at Alex, ‘Your mother didn’t come. Why didn’t she come? It’s awful. Laura’s really upset.’

  Alex leaned back and said, ‘Don’t blame me for my mother’s bad manners. I didn’t bring her up.’

  ‘But why didn’t she come?’ I hissed.

  ‘I have no idea,’ said Alex. ‘She didn’t come to any of my school recitals, debates or presentations either.’

  ‘That’s what I said,’ said Zach, leaning back too. ‘Our mother is a law unto herself. Expect nothing, and you won’t be disappointed.’

  Then Laura leaned back and said, ‘I’m feeling better now. Let’s enjoy the day.’

  We began our starters (seasonal salad and goat’s cheese from a local farm), drank English wine (which was awful) and for a moment it felt like a normal wedding.

  Then Alex stiffened. ‘Zach,’ he said, voice low and serious. ‘Our father just arrived.’

  I looked up from my organic food, and saw a small, wizened old man approaching the table, his dark eyes hard and annoyed.

  Harold Dalton looked even more ancient than I remembered him, with a bald-freckly head and loose turkey neck. A scowl was etched into his forehead wrinkles – a permanent reminder of his state of mind.

  It was like seeing the bad fairy at Sleeping Beauty’s christening.

  Zach got to his feet. ‘Daddy,’ he called out. ‘Daddy.’

  Harold’s furious forehead didn’t soften, but he raised a hand in greeting. He wore a smart navy suit with pink tie and shiny shoes.

  ‘You’ve missed the ceremony,’ Zach called. ‘But you can meet my lovely new wife and make up for lost time.’

  ‘I’m aware I missed the ceremony, Zachary,’ said Harold, with a warning glance.

  ‘Here – take my seat,’ said Zach, rising and offering his own chair. ‘Laura, this is my father. Daddy – may I introduce Mrs Laura Dalton.’

  Harold lowered himself slowly, slowly into Zach’s chair, dropping the last inch with his teeth gritted. Then he waved over a waiter and ordered himself a cold Viognier.

  Laura sat awkwardly, a fearful smile on her lips.

  ‘Nice to meet you, Harold,’ she said.

  Harold glowered beside her. ‘I prefer to be addressed as Mr Dalton by people I’ve just met,’ he said.

  When Harold’s white wine arrived, he raised his glass and said, ‘Let’s have a toast, shall we? To the Dalton family. May we be healthy and prosperous.’

  Zach said, ‘Here, here’, but Alex didn’t raise his glass.

  ‘Something the wrong with your drink, Alex?’ Harold challenged, eyes furious.

  ‘No,’ said Alex, eyes equally furious. ‘Something’s wrong with the toast.’

  ‘You don’t want to be healthy and prosperous?’ Harold barked.

  ‘I want to celebrate Zach and Laura’s wedding,’ said Alex. ‘Not the Dalton family.’

  ‘Let’s keep things calm, shall we?’ said Zach.

  Alex announced he was going for a walk. It must have been a long walk, because he missed the main (Welsh lamb, sautéed new potatoes and buttered spinach) and dessert (gooseberry pie with local cream). However, he returned in time for coffee (which came with a shot of British gin).

  Over coffee, Harold said to Laura, ‘I suppose you seem a nice, quiet sort of girl. No trouble.’

  Laura gave a lovely, slightly nervous laugh and said, ‘I certainly hope I’m no trouble.’

  Harold said, ‘But then Zach never was any trouble. It was his brother I had the problems with. Alex was always troublesome. Born that way. Takes after his mother.’

  ‘Interesting term,’ Alex replied, words clipped and furious. ‘Born that way. A man is judged by his actions, is he not?’

  ‘Yes, he certainly is,’ Harold barked.

  ‘On the subject of actions,’ said Alex. ‘You’ll have to enlighten me. Why didn’t you attend the ceremony?’

  ‘I discussed that with Zach weeks ago,’ Harold snapped. ‘He knew my reasons.’

  ‘I would have thought you’d show more respect to his future wife,’ said Alex. ‘And put your own beliefs to one side.’

  ‘I’m not sitting through a civil wedding ceremony and never will do,’ said Harold. ‘Zach should have done the job properly. Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?’

  ‘You’ve provided us with a fine example of doing the job properly,’ said Alex. ‘By marrying so many times. What does the Catholic Church say about that?’

  ‘Alex, be quiet.’ Harold took an angry little sip of wine. Then
he shook Zach’s hand and said, ‘Zachary. The best of luck.’ And off he hobbled.

  Laura burst into tears and ran back to the powder room. She stayed there for the next hour, absolutely distraught.

  Zach was angry with Alex, but I don’t think he should have been. After all, Alex was only standing up for Laura. It was terrible that Harold didn’t come to the ceremony.

  Eventually, we got Laura into her special honeymoon transport surprise – a gold VW camper van – and she and Zach left for the airport, picking up baby Bear and his nanny en-route.

  They’re flying off on honeymoon tonight, and tomorrow they’ll enjoy a mini glamping tour of Europe, including the Swiss Alps and Iceland hot springs.

  Hopefully the honeymoon will cheer Laura up a bit. She did seem very sad, considering it was her wedding day. Thank goodness she and Zach have the money to do it all over again, if they want to.

  Sunday 27th May

  Laura called us from a boutique safari tent in the Swiss Alps today.

  She was still very upset.

  Thought Laura would feel better after a good night’s sleep, but she can be very sensitive. It must be hard for her, being a Duffy.

  The whole family talked to Laura on Facetime and tried to put things in perspective.

  In the main, Laura was upset because she doesn’t feel good enough for Zach’s family.

  Dad took a philosophical approach. He threw out a few Instagram-style snowy mountain sayings:

  ‘We’re all equal under God’, etc.

  Laura said it wasn’t about being equal. It was about acceptance.

  Dad said, ‘Anyone who doesn’t accept you is already beneath you.’

  Laura said she didn’t feel that way, and in fact felt inferior.

  Dad said, ‘No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.’

  Laura started crying again.