Page 98 of The Bad Mother's Diary

She said, ‘But that little boy –’

He said, ‘He shouldn’t have that on his head AT ALL. If you must go and play, there’s a toy kitchen over there.’

Jemima scampered off and left Alex and I alone.

Daisy was crying a bit, so Alex got her out of the pram.

He said, ‘There’s too much going on in here, isn’t there? Is it all too much?’

Daisy stopped crying and chewed his shirt collar.

I was impressed.

Alex said, ‘I remember what Jemima was like. When she was little. She hated too much stimulation.’ Then he said, ‘I trust Nick Spencer is paying for this shopping trip.’

I said, ‘Why do you always call him by his full name?’

Alex said, ‘To set him apart from the Nicks I actually like.’

Then he asked me who my solicitor was, and I told him it was Ted Grunty.

Alex said, ‘Christ, the man who forged those planning applications?’

I told him that was never proved. Then I told him I’d decided to run the Christmas marathon after all.

Alex asked me how my training was going.

I said slowly.

Alex said, ‘Hopefully you’ll be able to keep up with me.’

Our eyes met, and I felt myself smile.

Then Jemima decided to show us all the things she’d written on a little toy chalkboard.

I ‘oooed’ at her letters.

She said, ‘They’re not letters. They’re words. Look, ‘ECZEMA’. And ‘ARCHITECT’. Are you coming to afternoon tea with us?’

Alex said, ‘Yes she is.’

I tried to protest. I said I didn’t want to interrupt their family time, and anyway I was meeting Laura in a few hours.

But Alex said, ‘Jemima wants you to come and so do I.’ Then he put Daisy in the pram and said, ‘Let me push that behemoth for you.’

And off we went.

We had afternoon tea at the Kensington Dalton Hotel.

The fanciest hotel in all of London.

I’ve never seen anything like it.

I tried not to stare at the gold cherubs and silk walls, but I don’t think I quite managed it because the bellboy said, ‘Do mind the rug, madam.’

Daisy bounced up and down, trying to grab the antique oil paintings.

Jemima was of course a perfect little lady. Gliding through reception to the tearoom, smiling serenely at the waiting staff.

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