Not that the thought hadn’t crossed my mind a couple of times over the last few days, because it had. But honestly, I thought my mother would have had a bit more tact. She’s setting me up on a blind date in her own dining room. Fucking fantastic. Clearly this wasn’t about family time, but more about finding me a bloody date. “I think you’ll really like her,” my mother reassures as she tries to soften the blow she’s just delivered. “She’s Susan’s other daughter. I’ve met her a few times when she’s popped into the pub with her girlfriends.” “I’m leaving,” I mutter, bending down to place a kiss against my stunned mother’s cheek. “I’m not here to play a game of blind date. I have other stuff I could be doing instead.” Her friend Susan, the lady she works with at the local community centre, has been forever trying to force her daughters on me. I think she has maybe four or five?
