Madness, Mayhem and Motherhood by Nikki McWatters

Author:Nikki McWatters
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Publisher: University of Queensland Press
Published: 2018-05-30T02:59:10+00:00

I was feeling seedy and guilty the next morning. That thing I had heard about the more expensive the booze, the lighter the hangover was complete rubbish. In fact, I wondered if it wasn’t supposed to be the other way around. Girl George’s hospitality had left a sour scum on the roof of my mouth. She had very generously paid for a taxi to get me home and the boys and I had fallen into bed late. I think I even had an erotic dream about the Wiggles. All of them.

It hit me like a tsunami, as soon as I woke up to very bright sunlight, that I had a vital interview that morning at the family compound of Australia’s most wealthy man – at least I thought he was the most wealthy. A very wealthy family nonetheless. No. Yes. The wealthiest man in the country! I thought about my cash wealth, which was sitting at exactly two dollars fifty, and laughed out loud at the irony of it. My brain hurt.

Without milk and bread I had to scramble to find something for us to eat for breakfast. I heated up a cheap processed tray of lasagne because there was very little else in the small bar fridge. It was iced into the freezer. I looked at the finished product after microwaving it and it looked nothing like the picture on the packet. The little serving-suggestion photo, with its nice side salad, should just have been a picture of the meal in a rubbish bin.

Toby had a foghorn of a voice – I’d even gotten his hearing tested, but it seemed he was just really, really loud. That morning I was finding the shouting really, really painful.

‘Don’t even mention socks, Sonic,’ I warned him in a werewolf growl as I tied his shoelaces. ‘Just put them on your feet and then your shoes and walk. If you complain about your socks I will lose my mind.’

I delivered the boys to school and kindy in a whirl of bustling, busy public transport. The crush of people felt claustrophobic and I kept doubting the outfit I’d chosen to wear to the interview. I’d wanted to look stylish but comfortable. I was going for a job as a cleaner so there was no point dressing up too much, but I didn’t want to look too casual or frumpy. I was going to a billionaire’s house. It was tricky. Style. Functional style? I just wore a pair of nice black pants and a button-up burgundy shirt. No jewellery. That bit was easy, as I had none. Flat, comfortable shoes. Hair in a pony-tail. Just a little foundation, mascara and a slash of my signature cheap orange lipstick to hide the chapping – I had had to scrub the red wine stains off my lips with a toothbrush, so they were a bit raw.

I’d seen Gretel Packer – hopefully my new boss – in the glossy mags and socialite pages. She was my age. I suspected she probably had her act together a bit better than I did.

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