452. Fame

During the course of the evening Baby had phoned and made her dad angry.

This is not reasonable. You need to grow up. It is not as if I had not told you about this. How do you think your boss would take it? This is just stupid.

It went on. The same key phrases and buzz words he had used on the others came pouring out into Baby's phone speaker.

Baby, maybe from having been a direct witness to her sibling being on the receiving end on such an outpour kept alternating between being quiet and being in full agreement.

... Yes, I know, it was a stupid decision. ... I feel bad about this. ... I will apologise, promise. ...

And thus the two of them went on and on. I steered clear of it. Escaped into the kitchen and started banging about on pots and pans.

The phone conversation ended and my husband came into the kitchen for a cup of tea which might, he said, just might, help him feel less angry.

'How can she be so stupid?'

'Here's a biscuit to go with your tea.'

I was not happy with Baby being stuck in some bus station in Paris at 3 in the morning waiting for a (non-existent) bus yet I did not want my husband to explain to me how dreadful the consequences of such an immature decision might - would - ruin her professional prospects.

Of course we went to bed late and of course I could not sleep (my husband could, maybe there was something in the set of ready-made sentences he used on our kids.

3 AM. He was sleeping soundly provably dreaming about how positive and impact this would have on Baby's life and how all would be all right in the end thanks to him. Meanwhile I was awake, my phone in my hand, wanting to chat with Baby to find out if the cheap bus was a real bus or not.

'It's all good, mum, don't worry, there's lots of us waiting here for this bus.'

'OK. Good. Let me know when bus arrives.'

'Yep. Oh btw there's this guy who's just come up to me and asked me if I was the daughter of Mrs F. He said he had you as a teacher a couple of years ago.'

Then she described him as tall with wavy light brown hair.

'Do you remember him?'

'No, I don't! Lots of tall boys amongst my students!'

'Well, I don't know his name. He'll be on the bus. I'll ask him. I don't know how he knew who I was.'

A bit weird but I wasn't sure if it was worrying weird or just weird. Anyway the bus arrived soon after that and they all got on in - my fan too - and I went to sleep.

The following weekend, when Baby was on her phone at the other end of the living room she suddenly shouted.

'Hey mum! You're on BeReal!'

She came across and showed me on her screen. There in the background, waving my arms in front of a messy white board, yes, it was definitely me!