Page 54 of The Bad Mother's Diary

After the afternoon tea, I wanted to thank Alex for the champagne and the training.

But he was nowhere around. So I wrote him a thank you letter on the hotel headed paper. Then I heard Alex’s deep voice behind me.

‘If that’s a complaint letter I can give it straight to the manager.’

I said it was a thank you. For the champagne and for taking me out training all those times.

Alex said, ‘A gesture worth five kisses it would seem.’

Then Brandi came running up saying our cab was here.

Alex folded his arms and said, ‘Goodbye Juliette.’

When we left, Alex’s MG was parked outside the hotel on double yellow lines.

The taxi driver said, ‘Typical bloody Dalton. Parks where he bloody likes and pays for the tickets.’

I didn’t tell Nick about Alex buying us champagne.

It would only have caused a row.

Sunday May 10th

Wedding flower shopping today.

Helen is furious that Nick hasn’t done it already.

She was even more furious when I said I wanted to go all natural and pick daisies from a field.

She said, ‘No son of mine is getting married in a church full of grubby daisies. Look – I’m paying for it, alright?’

I said it had nothing to do with money. I just like wild flowers.

Helen put on her horrible false smile and said, ‘Would youpleaselet me help you with this, Juliette? The church looks grubby enough as it is.’

I said, ‘It’s my wedding, Helen. If I want it to look grubby, that’s up to me.’

In the end, I decided to be kind and let Helen drive me to Perfect Petals in her big black Land Rover.

The flower shop lady was one of Helen’s old school friends, and they made horsey noises and went ra ra ra together.

Helen asked me which flowers I liked. Then she told me why I was wrong to like them.

I tried to pick flowers that looked natural and beautiful, but the flower-shop lady said they were funeral flowers.

Eventually, I chose giant white daisies that Helen hated. But it was sort of a compromise, because at least they were paid for and not picked from a field.

Monday May 11th

Disgusting fact of the day – my poo weighs two ounces. I know this because I weighted myself before and after. My weight is getting a bit obsessive now. But the wedding is SO close.

Mum and Dad had very different analogies about two ounces.

Dad said it was the same as a Swiss Army knife, two AA batteries or a large letter for posting.

Mum said it was roughly one bag of dry-roasted peanuts.

Tuesday May 12th

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