Time Out

Emma Murray

Description

'Brilliantly witty and marvellously observed...' Cathy Kelly

‘It’s just a phase,’ they said. ‘These are the happiest years of your life,’ they said…

Mother of one and professional writer Saoirse (pronounced Seersha, not Searcy – thanks a bunch Game of Thrones!) is still adjusting to the demands of motherhood, four years after the birth of her daughter, Anna.

Living in the claustrophobic London suburb of Woodvale, and being surrounded by passive-aggressive mum-wars, isn’t helping. Neither is her increasingly pent-up anger at her once-perfect husband. Her only comrade in arms, best friend Bea, is the one thing keeping her sane.

When Saoirse’s agent asks her to pitch for a book, she is horrified to discover the topic is motherhood. How can she possibly write a ‘warts and all’ account of being a mother without giving away what it’s really like?

Laugh-out-loud funny, painfully well-observed, but with an unmistakable warmth and unforgettable characters, this is the perfect read for anyone who desperately needs a break! The novel may or may not have been inspired by real life… For fans of Motherland!

Praise for Emma Murray:

'Emma Murray's Time Out is a brilliantly witty and marvellously observed novel about young motherhood when there's always someone ready to tell you that you're doing it all wrong.' Cathy Kelly

'Emma tells it how it is with real honesty, and it made me laugh out loud.' Janet Hoggarth

'Witty, fun, beautifully-written. Very highly recommended. Excited to see what comes next from Emma Murray.' Jessica Redland

What readers are saying about Time Out:

’Time Out was exactly what I needed right now, it's Hilarious, Witty, Brilliantly Written, Authentic, Compelling, Uplifting and so very relatable.The characters are superbly written, and I really hope we get to read more from Saoirse.’

’This book is a reminder of the importance of a support system: old friends, new friends, parents, and sometimes even a kind word from a stranger.’

’I really related to the Saoirse, the main character in this book. I loved her humour, her insecurities, her strengths, her flaws and of course most importantly how she formed a fantastic friendship over a morning bottle of Prosecco.’

’Emma Murray has written a 5-star 'how-to' book on being part of the village ... 'it takes a village to raise a child' but it also takes that village to raise up a mom!’

’A fabulous read that had me hooked and also made me feel glad that my children were born prior to the arrival of Facebook and social media. But a refreshing read and one I would definitely recommend.’

Sujets

• Family Life
• Topic
• General
• The Women
• Woman
• General officer
• Sibling
• Humor
• Men
• Coming of Age
• Women
• Relationships
• Siblings

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 26 mai 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781838894702
• Langue: English

Extrait

Time Out


Emma Murray
First published in Great Britain in 2020 by Boldwood Books Ltd.
Copyright © Emma Murray, 2020
Cover Design by Alice Moore Design
Cover Illustration: Everyday People Cartoons
The moral right of Emma Murray to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Every effort has been made to obtain the necessary permissions with reference to copyright material, both illustrative and quoted. We apologise for any omissions in this respect and will be pleased to make the appropriate acknowledgements in any future edition.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Paperback ISBN 978-1-83889-476-4
Ebook ISBN 978-1-83889-470-2
Kindle ISBN 978-1-83889-471-9
Audio CD ISBN 978-1-83889-477-1
MP3 CD ISBN 978-1-83889-474-0
Digital audio download ISBN 978-1-83889-468-9


Boldwood Books Ltd
23 Bowerdean Street
London SW6 3TN
www.boldwoodbooks.com
For the three great loves of my life: my husband, Sam, and our two daughters, Ava and Anya. (I can already hear the two girls arguing over whose name goes first.)
Contents




Part I


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9


Part II


Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19


Part III


Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25


Acknowledgments

Book Club Questions

More from Emma Murray

About the Author

About Boldwood Books
Part I
London, Past and Present



Motherhood is tough
But loneliness is far worse
Friends help us survive
1
London, Now

I’m not going to lie – I am nervous. It’s not often you find your whole future determined by an innocent-looking blue and white icon on your computer screen. But Skype is not flashing yet, and so I wait impatiently with sweaty palms and a whirring mind.
I glance at the clock on the bottom right-hand corner of the screen. It is 2.05 p.m. on a hot, clammy Wednesday afternoon in late July. The waiting is unbearable. My agent, Harriet Green, is late. She’s currently at a book event in New York and as usual she has no concept of the time difference. This is particularly annoying when I’m trying to schedule calls during my four-year-old daughter, Anna’s, afternoon nap. I drum my bitten fingernails on my desk. If Anna wakes up soon, any chance of a real conversation will be scuppered.
With a quick swivel of my chair, I turn towards the small window of my tiny home office –i.e. the spare room, hoping for some kind of distraction. My husband, David, Anna and I live on one of those mean, narrow south-west London streets, in an area called Woodvale, which is neither woodsy nor in a valley. It is the sort of place that estate agents call ‘quaint’ or ‘bijou’ – in other words, totally overpriced.
Rows and rows of identical red-brick Victorian terraced houses cling to each other as they line the busy, impractically narrow roads. Despite being in a firmly middle-class postcode, the shrubs and pavements are almost always covered in a mixture of dog and fox shit, a recurring topic raised on ‘Vale Mums’, the secret local Facebook group administrated by fellow ex-antenatal group mum and Nazi sympathiser Tania Henderson. (I have no evidence to suggest she has ever been affiliated with the Nazis, but if her strident approach to parenting is anything to go by, I think I have a strong case to argue.) Personally, I think Vale Mums should come with the tagline, ‘the home of First World problems’.
While I’m waiting for Harriet to figure out what time zone I’m in I swivel back to the screen and log into Facebook to check out Vale Mums for the latest ‘news’. Much as I loathe the futile commentary and no-offence-intended grinning emojis, like reality TV, I find Vale Mums both appalling and fascinating in equal measure. A quick glance at the latest news feed tells me: Amanda has ‘FINALLY’ found the perfect cupcake recipe (I can safely sit back from the edge of my seat now); Karen ‘desperately’ needs to know how to remove limescale from her kitchen kettle (Google it, Karen!); and Bethany is ranting as usual about the amount of dog shit on the street outside her house (I think you’ll find it’s ‘steaming dog shit’ in this heat, Bethany).
So far so boring. As I am scrolling down to see if there have been any juicier entries, I see Rosalind’s name pop up. Like Amanda, Karen and Bethany, I have never met Rosalind, but I’m willing to bet I know more about her than close members of her own family. Rosalind has three boys under the age of six (‘Three boys! THREE!’). She is about to turn forty (‘Any ideas for a fortieth celebration for a very tired mum?’); she currently has no childcare (‘Help! My nanny has just quit – by text message!’); and her husband works in Dubai for three weeks out of every month (‘Anyone else have a husband who works abroad?’ Followed by face-screaming-in-fear emoji).
Rosalind is a frequent visitor to Vale Mums and seems to treat it as a sort of oracle. If one of her children has a high temperature, she goes on Vale Mums for diagnosis; if she wants to buy a gift for her husband, she asks the other mums for advice; and most recently, she posted a photo of a spider in her bathroom in her house and asked the mums to identify its type (answer: a house spider). I have concluded that Rosalind’s posts imply that she is either very lonely or very bored, or perhaps a combination of the two.
Today, Rosalind’s burning question is what to make her ‘very fussy’ two-year-old, Jacob, for breakfast. I suck my breath in through my teeth and shake my head in despair. Oh, Rosalind. Poor, naïve Rosalind. Never post a ‘food’ question on Vale Mums. You’re leaving yourself wide open to all sorts of self-righteous comments from ‘the Organics’, a disturbingly large subset of Vale Mums led by aforementioned Tania Henderson.
To qualify as an Organic, you must feed your children only top-of-the-range organic food (preferably grown in your back garden, the more worms and muck the better) in order for your children to grow up happy, healthy and savvy enough to attract a partner with a trust fund. It goes without saying that being an Organic automatically makes you a better mum.
And so it is, with no small measure of trepidation, that I start to read the comments under Rosalind’s ‘breakfast plea’ post. First to reply is Tania.
Shocker.


Hi, Rosalind! Why not make Jacob some organic porridge mashed with organic strawberries and blueberries? If the crop in your garden isn’t doing well, there is great fruit picking at Johnson’s farm in Surrey at the moment!
I sigh. This is vintage Tania. Like the other eight hundred people on Vale Mums, she knows full well that Rosalind has no childcare, an absent husband, and has barely slept in six years. Does Rosalind sound like the type of person who has the time to be cooking porridge or driving to fucking Surrey to pick fresh fruit, let alone grow fruit in her own garden?
But wait, another comment has just flashed up. It’s Caroline, another member of the Organics crew.


Excellent suggestion, Tania! My LO [little one] also loves porridge with freshly picked fruit, but how about giving him some yoghurt too?
Although I find Caroline’s allegiance to Tania vomit-inducing, I can’t totally fault her response. Yoghurt is a handy stopgap; at least Rosalind can buy Jacob a few cartons of yoghurt from the shops. But I have given her too much credit. Another comment from Caroline flashes up.


Whoops! Just reread my last post and realised that I meant to say home-made yoghurt. Steer clear of the shop-bought variety – obviously. Too much sugar!
She signs off with a smiley emoji.
My fingers itch to respond. I rarely partake in this futile mum-off but I am too fired up to sit back and watch. I quickly write a response and post it before I can change my mind. I keep it simple. It’s only one word.


Cheerios.
There will be reprisals.
I am distracted by the sound of an angry car speeding down my road – clearly ignoring the 20 mph signs plastered everywhere – in a race to get to the end of the street for fear it might have to pull in for the ten seconds it takes to allow another car past. My shoulders bunch in irritation