THE BABYSITTER’S APOLOGY
I could smell it as soon as I stepped through the front door, back early from the theatre with the beginnings of a migraine. Sweet and sickly smelling. Pot, without a shadow of a doubt! I flung the lounge door open and there were two cute teenagers sat on my sofa with holier than though expressions on their faces.
I pointed at the friend. “You! Out! And don’t say a thing on the way!” The short blonde opened her mouth and then thought better of it; scuttling away. “You,” I snapped at Sammy. “Where is my daughter?”
“I-in bed,” she stammered. “She’s just fine!”
“For your sake, you’d better hope so,” I told her. “Come with me!” I led the way upstairs and stood watching my toddler sleep for a few minutes before I was completely reassured that all was well, then I le
