Page 13 of Tabloid Princess

She held open her mouth and I gave them the basic parenting cursive once-over. “Perfect.”

“Story time?”

“Sure.” I stepped over to her pink and cream bedding and pulled back the duvet. Not that she needed it, what with the incessant September heatwave we were struggling through, but she was like me and couldn’t sleep without the duvet, even if was only across her feet. “What story do you want tonight?”

“A princess one.”

I groaned. Princess Leia... I shook it away, stupid brain with its stupid thoughts. “Again?”

“Yes, yes. Cinderella.”

I couldn’t contain my eye roll. Not again. There were only so many times a sane woman could read the same book.

“How about I tell you a story I made up?”

“What do you know about princesses?” She had a fair point. I was more the Cinderella end of the spectrum—apart from my intense dislike of housework.

“Well not much, but what if I told you I met a prince today?”

Daisy’s eyes widened and my heart swelled to the size of the universe. “Did he have a white horse?”

“Why would he need a white horse?” I passed her a pink asthma pump and carefully watched her as she took her prescribed two puffs.

“So he could rescue us, silly.” She wiggled down under the duvet and patted for me to lie at her side.

“Sweetie, we don’t need anyone to rescue us. I’ll never let anything happen to you; you’re my everything.”

“I know, but, Mummy, if he put you on a white horse and rode off with you then you wouldn’t be lonely anymore.”

“Who says I’m lonely?” I pecked a kiss on her forehead, breathing in once again that delicious scent that completed my existence.

“Everyone. I heard Emily’s mum saying that you’re the youngest mum she knows.”

I scowled at the ceiling for a moment. “That’s because Emily’s mum is upset her face is starting to resemble a road map.”

Daisy nodded, her lips curving. “That’s what Miss Evans said.”

“Did she?”

“I wasn’t supposed to hear.”

“Right, am I telling you this story or are you going straight to sleep?”

“Story.” Her slender arm reached around me, and she nestled into my side.

“Once upon a time there was a girl who was always late, even when she tried very hard not to be.”

“And, was she a princess?”

I wasn’t going to get past this, so stifling my groan, I said, “Yes, she was. And then one day she was so late she ran straight into a very handsome prince.”

“Did she knock him over?”

“Not quite.”

“What happened next?”

“Are you going to sleep or keep asking questions?” I glanced down, catching her screwing her eyes tightly shut.