Free The Accidental Mother by Rowan Coleman

want to sort out exactly who’s doing what when.”
    “Okay, sir,” Cal said. “Should we synchronize our watches, sir?”
    Sophie did not laugh. She did not like it when Cal called her “sir.” “Any other calls?” she said.
    “Jake called to see if we’d heard from you. He asked me for your home number, and I said it was against company policy and all that, but he said what about your cell phone number, and I said I supposed that would be okay if it was really important, and he said he needed to talk to you about the party. So I offered to see if I could help him, but he said he’d just give you a ring and see how you were doing, so he clearly fancies you even though you’ve just become a single mother. I think you should marry him. He’s a keeper.”
    Sophie gave a short, hysterical laugh. “Look, Cal, I need to get my head round this. Carrie’s gone, and her children are in my living room. I can’t think about any of that stuff—so please, for my sake, just give it a rest, will you?”
    There was short pause.
    “I’m sorry, Soph,” Cal said, his voice softened. “You know me, the more complicated and emotional things get, the bigger and more stupid my mouth gets. Look, if I can help you with anything, you know I will, don’t you?”
    Sophie smiled. “I know,” she said. “You’re a mate. Just come over tomorrow—at lunchtime, okay?”
    “Yes, sir,” Cal said resuming normal service. “Over and out, sir!” And for once Sophie didn’t mind.
    She listened for any sound of disturbance from the living room. All was quiet on the Western Front except for the faint jangle of the Richard & Judy theme song. She dialed her mother’s number. As usual, it rang only twice before she heard the receiver clatter to the floor and the sound of dogs baying and yapping. Her slightly hard of hearing mother had trained her Great Dane cross, Scooby, to answer the phone when it rang. She had not, unfortunately, trained Scooby to take messages or, perhaps more vitally, to let her know that someone was waiting on the other end of the line. Sophie had always thought that was an essential bit to leave out.
    “Mum!” she yelled into the phone. “Mum! Mum! Mum!” It was a bit of a lottery as to whether her mum would work out that she was on the phone at all. But the more Sophie yelled, the more the dogs barked, which meant the more likely her mum was to come and see what they were barking at, which usually resulted in a conversation. Usually it did, but one evening when Sophie had called her, she had not answered at all, and after listening to dogs for twenty minutes, Sophie had been forced to go around to her mum’s house and let herself in just to double-check that her mother wasn’t lying dead in the hallway having her toes nibbled by her pets.
    Finally there was a clank and the sound of her mother’s voice conversing with the dogs. “Get down, poochies—get down ! Hello?” Her mother spoke into the receiver at last. She always sounded surprised when she answered the phone as if she’d forgotten that it had been invented until each time it rang again.
    “Mum, it’s me,” Sophie said.
    “Hello, dear.” Her mother’s voice warmed. “Oh, I am glad I called you. I’ve got a lot to tell you. Felicity’s got to go back to the vet’s again—same upset tummy—”
    “Mum! Look, I’m sorry, but I’ve got something to tell you.” Sophie told her about Carrie and the children.
    “Oh dear,” her mother said after a long pause. “How terrible. How terrible.”
    Sophie agreed once again that it was, she knew it was terrible, but she worried that she was secretly thinking it was terrible for all the wrong, selfish reasons.
    “The thing is, Mum, I don’t really know what I’m doing, you know. I thought maybe you could come over? Give me some tips? Please, Mum?”
    Her mother hesitated, as Sophie had known she would. “Tonight, dear, do you mean?” she said uncertainly.
    “Well, it is sort of an