Why Mummy Swears: The Sunday Times Number One Bestseller

Why Mummy Swears: The Sunday Times Number One Bestseller
Gill Sims

The hilarious second novel, and Sunday Times No 1 Bestseller, from author of the smash hit Why Mummy Drinks.Welcome to Mummy’s world…The Boy Child Peter is connected to his iPad by an umbilical cord, The Girl Child Jane is desperate to make her fortune as an Instagram lifestyle influencer, while Daddy is constantly off on exotic business trips…Mummy’s marriage is feeling the strain, her kids are running wild and the house is steadily developing a forest of mould. Only Judgy, the Proud and Noble Terrier, remains loyal as always.Mummy has also found herself a new challenge, working for a hot new tech start-up. But not only is she worrying if, at forty-two, she could actually get up off a bean bag with dignity, she’s also somehow (accidentally) rebranded herself as a single party girl who works hard, plays hard and doesn’t have to run out when the nanny calls in sick.Can Mummy keep up the facade while keeping her family afloat? Can she really get away with wearing ‘comfy trousers’ to work? And, more importantly, can she find the time to pour herself a large G+T?Probably effing not.

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COPYRIGHT (#u7f167dc9-8e1c-5073-b4ac-0b25cf5ea825)

HarperCollinsPublishers

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First published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2018

FIRST EDITION

© Gill Sims 2018

Cover illustration © Tom Gauld 2018

Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2018

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Source ISBN: 9780008284213

Ebook Edition © July 2018 ISBN: 9780008284237

Version: 2018-10-08

DEDICATION (#u7f167dc9-8e1c-5073-b4ac-0b25cf5ea825)

To AE and AT

CONTENTS

Cover (#u9716a61b-1131-589e-a4c6-7ae86ebe2532)

Title Page (#u9c3ca4f2-2f3b-577a-a6ab-987ce139d871)

Copyright (#uf8540640-e091-51cd-aea8-bc170d6ed0a2)

Dedication (#ua6db15d7-e3f2-59fa-bd8b-a3e742c9587b)

JULY (#u3a3a64b7-4ead-58ae-b04d-70806f5e6139)

AUGUST (#ub18edf09-4ecd-51e9-97d2-82917a8bc316)

SEPTEMBER (#u695af15d-768d-5198-9a1c-5bf0608f33ea)

OCTOBER (#u8a127a17-4ea2-58a4-97a2-4e0d03add420)

NOVEMBER (#litres_trial_promo)

DECEMBER (#litres_trial_promo)

JANUARY (#litres_trial_promo)

FEBRUARY (#litres_trial_promo)

MARCH (#litres_trial_promo)

APRIL (#litres_trial_promo)

MAY (#litres_trial_promo)

JUNE (#litres_trial_promo)

JULY (#litres_trial_promo)

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS (#litres_trial_promo)

By the Same Author (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

JULY (#u7f167dc9-8e1c-5073-b4ac-0b25cf5ea825)

Monday, 18 July

I have one week till the summer holidays begin. I can’t help but feel awfully jealous of the Famous Five’s parents – not only did Julian, Dick and Anne’s mama and papa simply bung them off on Aunt Fanny and Uncle Quentin at the slightest excuse, but Aunt Fanny was always sending them off to islands and moors and coves FULL OF CRIMINALS AND WRECKERS AND SMUGGLERS so that Uncle Quentin could work in peace at his inventing. I have frequently wondered if I could do similar, as I did once invent a very fabulous app that made splendid amounts of money for a little while, even if the app world is fickle and today’s hit is forgotten tomorrow and no one buys it anymore. I’m sure I could probably do the same again if only I could just send the children to live outdoors and go feral for the summer (and stop faffing about and eating biscuits). As I recall, Uncle Quentin’s inventions never even made any money, which was why he and Aunt Fanny were poor and had to look after the beastly cousins, which makes it doubly unfair that it is now so frowned upon to hand your children a bicycle and a packet of sandwiches on the first day of the holidays, and tell them not to come home till it’s time to go back to school. Jane is eleven now, you see, and more than of an age for Famous Fiving. I did once wistfully suggest this to her, when we were in the middle of one of our frequent rows about why she is not allowed an Instagram account yet, and she pointed out the many illegalities with this plan and threatened to call Childline if I ever broached it again.

I am feeling particularly bitter about the expenditure the summer holidays necessitate, because I have been reading the Famous Five books with Peter, though somewhat against his will, as he informs me each night that he would much rather watch DanTDM than endure another chapter of marvellous Blyton-y japes, frolics and foiling of beastly common-criminal types. Jane has obviously point-blank refused to take part in any such babyish activity as being read to in the evening, and so we compromised with her promising to read something herself instead, which I felt was a perfectly reasonable offer, until after two chapters she announced that Anne of Green Gables was stupid and boring and why was Anne always wittering on about imagination and I shouted that Jane had no soul and was clearly a changeling as no child of mine would speak thus of Anne Shirley. Now I pretend not to know that she is watching YouTube make-up tutorials instead of wandering the enchanted lanes of Avonlea with Gilbert Blythe (who I still totally would, incidentally).

Peter, however, has not quite succeeded in breaking my spirit to the same extent as Jane, and so I am still forcing him to sit with me and roam Kirrin Island. I think he is going for a chemical-warfare option to get out of our reading sessions, though, as I swear he farts far more when he is supposed to be sitting and reading with me than he does normally, and that is saying something for a child who once proudly announced he had made his teacher feel sick with his flatulence. The chapter has had to be cut short once or twice due to my eyes watering.

In theory, this summer should be less fraught for me than previous ones, due to my possibly dubious decision to take voluntary redundancy three months ago. I’d had grand plans to become a top games and app designer, on the strength of creating an app, which I called Why Mummy Drinks, two years ago. Taking the redundancy seemed like a brilliant opportunity to have a bit of a financial cushion until I came up with the latest hit game. When I quit the old job, I had a plethora of brilliant ideas that I was quite sure I only needed time to make into something splendidly lucrative. But when I actually try to translate them into a game or an app, they’re just a bit … well, shit. Also, the fact that I am really, really rubbish at working from home and managing my time properly might have something to do with my lack of productivity, and after years of dreaming about escaping from the office it’s actually quite lonely working at home by yourself with no one to talk to. I even find myself missing Jean from Shipping, who used to tell long and involved stories about the state of her gall bladder. Also, when you are at home all day by yourself, you eat a startling quantity of chocolate biscuits. So not only am I failing to achieve Great Things, and feeling lonely, I have gained a stone and am now alarmed by the size of my own arse every time I accidently catch sight of it in a mirror. I feel like one of those cardboard children’s books That’s Not My Arse, It’s Far Too Enormous …