The Family Friend by C. MacDonald (love story novels in english txt) 📕

of a shop at the station (everyday travel essential, sure). Not convinced big-Bob will know what to do with it but will look lush hanging by the window in his nursery and maxing out the Frida Kahlo vibes. WISH ME LUCK.

#thehungovergames #toooldtosayting #mumsofinsta#absentmumsofinsta #hotmessesofinsta #haveabreakhaveameltdown #willyoustilllovemetomorrow

AnnaMaitron HE’LL BE SO EXCITED TO SEE YOU

salveno33 ‘thehungovergames’ LOL

Fran_Tony98 i’d never leave my son at nine months and certainly wouldn’t come back still drunk.

motherhubbardglittercupboard Erin, you make it look easy but you still deserve time away. Hope you got my @mysteryboxes to celebrate 30K followers.

Tontonteron some people have real problems

3

‘Here she is,’ the woman says in an Australian accent as she spots Erin standing at the open door frame to her living room. Erin’s fiancé Raf stands up and gives her a flat-palmed wave and a crooked smile that references the strange woman in their front room. The woman gets up and walks towards Erin, still holding baby Bobby, who’s scanning his mother’s face to try and make sense of it. Erin knows she should put her arms out for her son but finds herself leaning against the in-built shelving, fingering the frayed top edge of a hardback.

‘Erin, Amanda,’ Raf says, having edged around the table, a note of weariness in his voice, ‘an old family friend from back in Oz.’

‘I think this might be yours?’ the woman says with a muted laugh as she gets to the door. Erin comes forward to take Bobby, but his little monkey paws cling to the edge of Amanda’s summer dress so she has to prise them off before handing the baby over. Erin is unbalanced by the sudden weight of her son as he attaches himself to the crook of her arm. He squeaks, then buries his head into Erin’s neck, his wedge of hair tickling the underside of her chin.

‘Amanda’s mum used to work with my dad at the university,’ Raf offers, leaning on the last word and giving Erin a look warning her to be tactful.

‘It’s just so great to meet you,’ Amanda says, clapping the tips of her fingers together to emphasise how great she’s finding it. ‘The woman who captured Raf’s heart.’ Erin catches her fiancé’s eye over her shoulder. He shakes his head, a hint of a shrug, eyes hooded.

‘When did you get in?’ Erin says, trying to sound casual.

‘This morning,’ Raf answers. ‘I called but you were, you know, uncontactable.’ Erin looks at Bobby. His over-round cheeks are dappled with patches of red, his eyes look raw, sunken and the dribble rash on his chin seems angrier than it did yesterday. It looks like he hasn’t slept for days. Teeth, probably. He cries out several times every night until Raf goes in to soothe him and they always blame teeth though she’s no idea if that is the real reason.

She spends longer than usual taking in every detail of Bobby’s face, assessing how much he’s changed in the thirty-six hours since she’s been away. Guilt aches in the pit of her stomach. How could she leave him for so long? It must have been so unsettling, and on top of that, another woman, here in their house when his mum’s away.

‘Raf said you’ve been at some thing in the woods where you’re not allowed to take your mobile? Sounds wonderful. I wish smartphones had never been invented.’ Erin spots Raf smirking as he takes some mugs from the table over to the sink. Erin’s often said to Raf how pretentious she finds people who bang on about how phones are to blame for everything. She notices that there are still plates with the crumbs of some kind of flapjack on the table. They’ve been having tea and cake in her absence. The house seems calm, composed, even the often-screaming Bobby.

‘It was fun, yeh.’ Erin thinks of being stacked around a huge wooden table in the most beautiful forest just outside Sevenoaks with seven other mummy-bloggers; being fed espresso martinis and a smorgasbord of vegan nibbly bits. How much they laughed guiltily every time Anna Mai (74k followers) barked that she missed her phone way more than any of her kids, the way the whole gang giggled every time Erin asked the guy who’d done the food if he had any bacon bits she could sprinkle on top of the food. The blissful silence, the empty space in her head where the bubble of stress around how Bobby’s going to sleep normally resides as she put her head on the crisp Egyptian cotton pillow in her luxurious yurt.

She feels a sharp pain and looks down to see Bobby grabbing a clump of skin on her shoulder. She yanks his hand away. Amanda’s watching with a strange intent, pupils large in paper-white eyes.

‘You must have missed this one so much.’ Amanda tickles one of his feet.

‘Yeh, course.’ Erin waves Bobby’s hand drowsily in the air. The action feels insincere and she has the thought that she’s somehow trying to copy Amanda dancing Bobby around the table, so she stops and lets the boy’s arm fall to his side. She scans the room. Her colour-coded play texts, her blocky modern prints, her fiancé rinsing things in the sink in the orangey light of the kitchen. It’s all the same as it was when she left, but this stranger’s presence makes her feel like she’s been gone for months.

Raf sidles over to them while Bobby discovers his mother’s jawline with a pudding fist, eyes doubtful as if he’s never seen it before. Raf leans towards her, takes the back of her neck in his long fingers and gives her a firm kiss somewhere between her cheek and her ear. Amanda’s eyes seem to grow bigger and she smiles on in wonder as if she’s at an immersive theatre production.

‘Does he need to nurse?’ Amanda says, nodding at Bobby who’s grappling at Erin’s top and headbutting her chest.

‘Ah, I don’t know?’ She