Dawn O’Porter - So Lucky

Published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2019

Copyright © Dawn O’Porter 2019

Jacket design by Claire Ward © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2019

Jacket photograph © Shutterstock.com

Dawn O’Porter asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008126070

Ebook Edition © October 2019 ISBN: 9780008126087

Version: 2020-08-21

Dedicated to Caroline

LUCK [n] /:

Success or failure apparently brought by

chance rather than through one’s own actions.

Everyone else is OK

Everyone else’s life is perfect

Everyone is talking about me

Everyone has this figured out except me

Everyone knows I can’t do this

We are all SO LUCKY.

What could we possibly have to complain about?

Everyone has their shit

Everyone needs to be kinder to themselves

Everyone’s in the struggle together

Everyone isn’t me

Everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about …

Contents

Cover

Title Page SO LUCKY Dawn O’Porter

Copyright

Dedication

Epigraph

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading …

Don’t miss the ‘So Lucky’ podcast series

About the Author

Also by Dawn O’Porter

About the Publisher

My kid moved out the day she was born. For someone like me, becoming a mother was when I thought I’d finally give my whole self to another human without being constrained by the limitations of my condition. I thought my undying love for this little person would be met by her needing me in a way I had never been needed before. But as it turns out, I’m not sure my kid has ever needed me other than in a physical capacity to keep her alive. Being a mother hasn’t been the sweet experience I imagined it to be. In fact, my kid is an asshole. Some might say she gets it from me.

It’s 7.05 a.m. I am lying on my bed and she’s screaming like she’s being attacked in the next room. She isn’t being attacked, she is fine. She doesn’t sleep in a cot, she knows how to get up. But still, she shouts and screams until I go into her room. Only to tell me to get away from her when I do.

I didn’t want a girl. I wanted a boy. I have no idea how to teach a girl to love herself. I thought, if I had a boy, then Liam could just take care of that side of things. I also don’t like how manipulative women are. I didn’t realise it started so early.

I reach for my dressing gown that I keep on the other side of the bed. It’s no substitute for a husband, but at least it’s something to wrap around my body when I wake up in the morning. My dressing gown is one of the few things I adore. It’s a 1970s terry-towelling, full-length, high-necked, long-sleeved Victorian-looking thing that hides almost every inch of my body other than my face and neck. I spent ages looking for the perfect one, nothing modern had the same coverage. It means I can answer the door before I get dressed, should someone come knocking. I often wonder who the woman who owned it before me was, as it came with certain signs of wear and tear. Did she also feel the need to hide herself in her own home? Did she have children who loved her? Did she live a life of self-inflicted solitude? Liam hated this dressing gown, but I saw it as my only option after what he did to me on our wedding day.

Getting Bonnie dressed every morning is on a par with being in one of those shark cages, and the shark getting into it with you. She kicks me directly in the chest and stomach. She’s bitten me a number of times. She tries to get away, and I have to pull her back and hope to God I don’t dislocate a shoulder or hip.

I love her, of course. But I don’t love parenting. People tell you not to wish it away. They say I’ll miss her being small. I won’t. I will never miss this. Living with a toddler is like living with someone with a complete lack of empathy. Something I swore I wouldn’t do again, when I moved out of home, and moved away from my mother.

Monday mornings are always the hardest, especially after she has spent the weekend with her dad. Liam doesn’t bother with the boring stuff. He lets her eat what she wants, he lets her stay up late watching TV until she falls asleep. He doesn’t bother bathing her or brushing her teeth. Which means that when Bonnie comes back to me she is sticky to the touch, with a yellow smile and dreadlocks in her hair. I am the one who then has to force her into the bath. The one who has to brush out the knots. The one who has to scrape the fur from her teeth. The one who ruins the fun.