Yesterday being Mother’s Day, I gave Mum a call. I don’t just wait for the big occasions to call her, of course, but I remembered the significance of this particular Sunday with a jolt at eleven in the morning and knew that if I didn’t call her before she got to my brother’s house for lunch (they’re bubbling) then my name would be mud. I caught her just as she was putting her coat on. Had she received my flowers? She had. They were wilting when they arrived.
Mum said that my brother could wait another 15 minutes and sat to chat. She was still furious that ITV had chosen to bump Unforgotten for the Harry and Meghan interview. Nothing comes between Mum and her crime dramas. I didn’t dare ask her what she’d thought about the actual interview, in case I had to cancel my own mother. There was other royal news on Mum’s mind, in any case. Royal-related news at least.
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