Mummy Needs a Break
A hilarious story of the ups and downs of unexpected single motherhood, the perfect laugh-out-loud romance for fans of Why Mummy Drinks, The Unmumsy Mum and The Not So Perfect Mum. With a devilish toddler and baby number two on the way, Rachel’s big dream is to one day go to the toilet on her own. So, she’s surprised to discover that her husband has found the time to have an exciting affair while she’s been bringing up their family. Suddenly, Rachel is left wrangling with a child who will only eat crackers and a 35-week bump. She knows even Mumsnet isn’t going to solve this. What Rachel needs is a handsome, good-with-children, single man. But she can barely leave the house without a stain on her top and child on her hip. How on earth can she claim her life back, let alone thinking about dating? What others are saying about Mummy Needs a Break: ‘Oh my goodness! This book is extremely gripping with lots of twists and things I did not see coming… The mummy parts are totally relatable and there are lots of funny moments mixed with sad, emotional ones too. A great easy-to-read book. I really enjoyed it. ’ Reader reviewer, 5 stars ‘This book was excellent!’ Reader review, 5 stars ‘A fabulous read!’ Reader review, 5 stars ‘Read this in one sitting can’t wait for the next book. ’ Reader review, 5 stars ‘This one is for all the women out there busting butt and getting it done! Love this book. Read the whole thing in one day. You will laugh, relate and just love this book. ’ Reader review, 5 stars ‘Had me giggling out loud… If you are looking for a fun, feel good, uplifting read, with a strong female lead, plenty of humour, drama and a dash of romance, then you will love Mummy Needs A Break!’ Reader review, 4 stars ‘This book had me laughing, shouting and also melted my heart’ Reader review, 4 stars ‘Perfect chick lit! I recommend this for anyone looking for a light and fun read!’ Reader review, 4 stars ‘Absolutely fantastic had me gripped!!! Loved it! Can't wait for more from this author. ’ Reader review, 4 stars
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MUMMY NEEDS A BREAK
Susan Edmunds
Published by AVON
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2019
Copyright © Susan Edmunds 2019
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019
Cover illustration © Sara Gerard
Susan Edmunds asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008316099
Ebook Edition © July 2019 ISBN: 9780008316082
Version: 2019-06-15
To my husband, Jeremy
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Acknowledgements
About the Author
About the Publisher
How to make blue playdough
What you’ll need*:
1 cup water
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
½ cup salt
1 tablespoon cream of tartar
Blue food colouring
1 cup flour
*A sharp eye to catch bits before they’re ground into the carpet
Combine water, oil, salt, cream of tartar, and food colouring in a saucepan and heat until warm. Remove from heat and add flour. Stir and knead like it’s your husband’s head, and he’s just informed you he’s working through the children’s bath time, again. Warning: The kids will eat more playdough than you realise. It will turn everything in their digestive systems a deep shade of yellow. Apt really, when you’re discovering what a coward the man you married has become.
It was a particularly muggy spring evening when my usually uneventful, comfortably boringly suburban life fell apart. I was eight months pregnant, sweaty, grumpy and was working late. Again.
‘So, tell me a bit about what’s happened.’ I had tucked my phone into the crook of my neck, a pen making an indent in my middle finger as I scribbled on my notepad. Somewhere beyond the door to my makeshift home office in our spare bedroom, I could hear my two-and-a-half-year-old son, Thomas, pushing a toy truck or car repeatedly into the freshly painted wall of the kitchen. At least, I hoped it was a car. The way our day was going, it might have been his father’s head.
The woman at the other end of the phone coughed. Could she hear me tapping my pen on my notebook? I eyed the clock: 6.30. My workday was meant to finish at 5 p.m., but the emails from my editor had become increasingly frantic. If we didn’t want yet another front-page story about the unseasonable weather, I needed to get a quote from this woman about her burgled-for-the-fourth-time-in-a-month clothes store.
‘I don’t want to make myself more of a target …’ I could hear her jangling a bunch of keys.
I deployed the most soothing tone I could muster. She sounded about the same age as my mother, but the photos I’d found of her in our files looked as if she was only a decade or so older than me. ‘I’m sure you won’t. You must want something done to improve safety?’
I bit my lip, allowing her silence to spread out between us. She did not take the hint to fill it.
‘More security guards for the mall? Better monitoring?’ I tried. ‘Have you lost a lot of money?’
A wail echoed down the hallway. She didn’t seem to register it. Judging by her breathing and the whir of vehicles in the background, it sounded as if she was hurrying across a car park.
‘Oh, heaps. The insurance excess wipes me out each time. I’m too scared to work late here by myself.’
I swallowed. ‘I’d love you to raise awareness of the problem.’ I had to get the words out before she came up with another excuse to put the phone down. ‘Maybe stop other business owners getting caught out.’
‘I guess.’ The line went silent again.
Thomas howled from the next room. I cringed. Could his father not handle one bedtime alone? ‘Have you any footage? We could post it on social media, see if anyone IDs the guys?’
I nudged the door open with my foot and stuck my head through, gesturing frantically at my husband, Stephen, to reduce Thomas’s noise output by a couple of thousand decibels.
