9
Thea is late for school for the second time this week. If she wasn’t so busy on that phone of hers she might be a little more organised.
“It’s almost eight,” I remind her. “You’re going to miss your bus again.”
Thea ignores my comment, continuing to speed-text someone. Who is it this time? Ellie? Beth? Faith maybe?
A boy?
No, she would’ve mentioned it to me.
Like hell, she would!
“Put your phone down,” I say, “or I’m flushing it down the toilet.”
“God, Mum,” Thea replies, bitterly; eyes still locked on the screen, “will you get off my case.”
“If you miss that bus you can walk to school this time. I’m not b****y driving you.”
Chuckling, she finally looks up at me. “Yeah right. With all the lectures about safety, and you’re gonna make me walk on my own, among all the paedos and r
