or at the theater with my true love, so the money would not be wasted.
Feeling happy with this decision, I made my usual pasta con pesto and listened to the Archers.
There was a convoluted story line involving a very unconvincing Glaswegian milkman, and I did not particularly enjoy the episode.
I’d washed up and settled down with a book about pineapples. It was surprisingly interesting.
I like to read as widely as possible for many reasons, not least in order to broaden my vocabulary to assist with crossword solving.
Then the silence was very rudely interrupted. “Hello?” I said, somewhat tentatively.
“Oh, so it’s ‘Hello,’ is it? ‘Hello’—that’s all you’ve got to say to me? And where the hell were you last night, lady? Hmm?”
She was playing to the gallery again. “Mummy,” I said. “How are you?”
I tried my best to steady myself. “Never mind how I am. Where were you?”
“I’m sorry, Mummy,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.I was... I was with a friend, visiting another friend in hospital, actually.”
“Oh, Eleanor,” she said, her voice oozingly oleaginous, “you don’t have friends, darling.
Now come on, tell me where you really were, and I want the truth this time. Were you doing something naughty? Tell Mummy, there’s a good girl.”
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