Perfect Daughter Read Online Free

letters that never came was one of Ida’s more recent obsessions. It had started one Sunday lunch, when she’d suddenly burst into tears and shouted, ‘I’ve lost them! I’ve lost them all! They were in a bundle, all my letters. I tried to keep them safe, but now they’ve gone!’ No one had any idea what she meant, but they soon found that humouring her was the best response.
    ‘I’ve had an idea!’ Pete shouted up the stairs. ‘What about the Leaning Tower of Pisa? I can do that with four beer cans and an empty Cornetto.’
    ‘I don’t want to do a tower! That’s rubbish. It’s just beer cans!’ Jonty replied. ‘Mu-um? Mum? Tell Dad I can’t just do a tower, that’s just rubbish!’
    ‘It’s supposed to be rubbish, you wally.’ Martha laughed.
    ‘Just one second, Mum.’ Jacks pulled the blankets and bedspread over Ida’s semi-naked form. She thrust the soiled nappy into an empty carrier bag and tied it with a double knot. Popping her head out on to the landing, she spoke quietly but firmly.
    ‘Martha, don’t call your brother a wally. And Jonty, you don’t have much choice at this stage in the game, love. Dad is doing his best to find stuff for you to take in at very short notice. Now go and eat your breakfast, both of you.’ She smiled at her little boy, who stood with his arms folded across his chest.
    ‘But I don’t want to do a tower, it’ll be pants.’ His eyes brimmed with tears.
    ‘What do you want to do then?’ Jacks spoke quickly, encouraging her son to match her pace. She had her mum to see to, the breakfast things to tidy away and only sixteen, no, fifteen minutes in which to get both kids in the car.
    ‘I want to make the Clifton Suspension Bridge.’ He rallied, eyes bright at the idea.
    ‘Clifton Suspension Bridge?’ Pete guffawed. ‘You’ll be lucky, son. I’m afraid it’s the Leaning Tower of Pisa, or the Angel of the North if you bend these three coat hangers.’ He held them up.
    ‘The Angel of the North isn’t even a building!’ Martha shouted as she bolted down the stairs with her jacket and bag over her shoulder.
    ‘Well, excuse me! We can’t all be clever, can we, Jacks?’ He winked at his wife from the bottom of the stairs.
    Jacks bent low and mussed her son’s hair. ‘Your tower will be fine, Jonty. You can paint it and cover it with foil and bits and bobs. It’ll look lovely. And I think it’s your best bet in the circumstances.’
    ‘Okaaay,’ he mumbled, finally heading downstairs for his breakfast.
    Jacks straightened up and returned to her mum’s room. As she opened the door, the smell of faeces hit her in the face, offending her nose and making her retch. ‘Oh God!’ she whispered as she placed her hand over her nose and mouth.
    ‘I have passed water,’ Ida stated nonchalantly, as if she was announcing the day of the week.
    Jacks nodded and drew back the covers, trying not to inhale through her nose. ‘That’s okay, Mum. Quick change of plan: we need to get you into the shower for a quick once-over before I take the kids to school. Okay?’ Pulling the sheet from the bed, she wrapped it around her mum and manoeuvred her into a sitting position.
    ‘I’m expecting a letter.’
    ‘Yes.’ Jacks nodded as she helped her mum to stand, supporting her feather-like weight as she leant against her. ‘When it comes, I’ll bring it up to you, don’t worry.’
    With the bathroom now thankfully empty, she used her elbow to open the door, then switched on the shower and removed the sheet and her mother’s nightie, bed socks and vest, rolling them into a ball in the corner of the room. ‘Here we go.’ She guided her mum under the deluge.
    ‘Oooooooh! It’s too hot! You are burning me! Help! Someone help me!’ Ida shrieked.
    Jacks smiled and thrust her own hands into the running water. ‘Look, Mum! Look! If it was too hot, it would be burning me too and it’s not. It’s fine. I checked it. I promise you it’s not too hot.’ She reached