Publication date 11th July 2019
About the book
No-one said being a single mum would be easy...
Everyone knows that being a single mother means having no time to yourself. But for Callie Brown, its more exhausting than most. She's juggling the needs of three teenage children, two live-in parents, a raffish ex-husband, and a dog who never stops eating.
The last thing Callie needs is anything more on her plate. So when she bumps (quite literally) into a handsome, age-appropriate cyclist, she's quick to dismiss him from her life. After all, if she doesn't have time to brush her hair in the morning, she certainly doesn't have time to fall in love...
My Review
This book is absolutely blooming fantastic! It is so modern and current and so relatable for many people. Honestly it is so full of drama and exciting little twists which makes it so easy to read and you will find you read this so quick. Brilliant story and fabulous characters. I am very much looking forward to reading the next one.
Extract
It was clear that I wasn’t injured, just dazed and confused. I was in the back of an ambulance and a friendly paramedic was telling me I needed to come to A & E to get checked out. The contents of my bag had been gathered up and given back to me by the lady in the hatand everything was there, including my phone, miraculously uncracked. I held my bag on my lap as my vision started to become more normal.
From outside the white shiny doors I could hear people saying things about the lighting near the station not being good enough ‘since they fixed the road’, and the voice of the hat-lady telling someone that, ‘She keeps going on about being invisible.’
‘No one sees me any more, that’s the joke,’ I said to the paramedic who was strapping me into one of the ambulance chairs. I could see this other version of me – the one who’d been sideswiped by Thai green curry – but I couldn’t seem to control her. ‘I’ve lost my actual mind,’ I said. ‘Not just my mind, but my actual one.’
She nodded and smiled. ‘We’re going to make sure you’re OK,’ she said in a voice designed to reassure.
‘Do I smell of curry?’ I asked her, but she was busy plugging in something else.
The cyclist appeared in the doorway of the ambulance. ‘I’m really, really sorry,’ he said again. ‘What can I do? Shall I come to the hospital with you?’
I smiled at him, ‘the man who thought I was invisible,’ and bent over laughing again.
He grinned – a kind grin – but mostly, as you’d expect, he looked confused. I was clearly mad. I’d look confused myself if I came across me.
‘You’ve got to let me do something to help,’ he carried on. The paramedic was preparing to leave.
‘Wait,’ I said. ‘Have you got my dinner?’ I was still sane, then, because I was thinking about the kids’ dinner.
The man handed me the Sainsbury’s bag. ‘One of the pasta packets split and the jar burst,’ he said and then started apologising again. ‘Listen, shall I bring some food later? I mean, it’s the least I can do and… Look, please, can I have your number? I want to check you’re OK.’
‘First you knock me down and then you want my number?’ Now I was a stand-up comic. But he looked confused again, so I rattled it off twice while he punched it into his phone and then said, ‘I live at number 42 Patchett Road.’
The cyclist looked even more confused. ‘What a coincidence,’ he said. ‘I’ve just moved into number 36.’
‘Really?’ I hadn’t seen him outside in our street even though this was three doors down; I would’ve remembered a middle-aged man in Lycra.
‘So, we’re neighbours,’ the man went on.
‘You could’ve just come round to borrow a cup of sugar,’ I pointed out. ‘You didn’t need to run me over.’
The cyclist’s face crinkled again in a smile, but the paramedic was getting impatient. ‘What’s your name, love?’
‘Callie,’ I said. ‘Callie Brown.’
She signalled to the cyclist to get out of the way as she wanted to close the doors. He disappeared from view, saying, ‘I’ll get in touch later and make sure you’re OK.’
‘Now is there someone we should phone?’ the paramedic said. ‘Husband, partner – other responsible adult?’
‘None of the above,’ I said.
She raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to one side. ‘What about your parents?’
I thought about my generally batty mum and dad – they meant well but weren’t exactly responsible adults. ‘They won’t be much help. Look, I’ll call one of my friends.’ She pressed a button to her side, which must have been a signal to the driver as the engine kicked in. ‘No blue light?’ I asked. ‘The traffic’s going to be shit.’
She laughed. ‘I’m not sure you’re an emergency,’ she said. ‘You haven’t broken anything, and you seem all there to me.’ Then she muttered to herself, ‘Apart from all this stuff about being invisible and curry.’
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