The following excerpt could be either funny or sad, depending on your mood. Hanna is an aspiring actress with a drinking problem:
. . . that evening, somehow, the baby got hold of her little Innocent bottle and spat the stuff out, spilling it all down his front and, never mind the hole in the fucking universe, when Hugh smelt the alcohol off the baby’s Breton striped Petit Bateau, the world as Hanna knew it came to an end.
. . . The thing was through the washing machine on the instant, so Hugh had no hard evidence. But he had the baby. He was sleeping in the baby’s room. He would not fight with Hanna, he said, but he would not leave her alone with the baby. And when it came to Christmas he would take the baby home.
Hanna said, “That’s a relief. No, really. Childcare at last. Fucking fantastic.”
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.