I actually thought for a while that hanging out with Mrs C would turn me. She’s so ‘up for it’ and laidback that I have to keep reminding myself that I don’t know her. And she ISN’T my mother. Her two, Cora and Anansy, are so lucky. She’s just so chilled. I mean, there’s some pretty fucked up stuff going on with her and her man, and that’s no lie. She doesn’t want to be anywhere near the dude, and I don’t blame her. I don’t know how long it’s been going on for, but since I’ve been here, he’s not come back before the children are in bed once. In more than a week he’s been out till late, certainly not back before I leave. Some days I go and come back then go again. Mrs C, I really should call her Tami, but I like calling her Mrs C (‘You make me feel like I’m in Happy Days,’ she said to me, ‘And you’re The Fonz. Although I always fancied being Claire Huxtable in The Cosby Show. She was the coolest mother in TV-land, don’t you think?’ When I just looked at her ’cos, you know, I had not a clue what she was on about, she rolled her eyes and sighed.
