The Tall Tales of Daphne Monroe

Saturday 4th April

1:00pm

God, the day has been sooooo slow.

I've just been counting down the hours until I was supposed to be going on my date with Théo. I can hear Dad in the pub, humming away to himself because he is fortunate to have a social life and I am left stuck tending to the mad.

Here I was thinking my life was just about to begin and his was practically over. How wrong I was.

I'm so desperate I've even resorted to studying Spanish. I figure if I can get good enough I will be let free of the blasted after-school classes with SourFace. I've only been to one and I can feel the will to live ebbing away from me.

SourFace will pay for this.

I've tried calling my so-called friends but they are all busy. Fee's pulling a shift at her parents' café, Jade and Eddie are travelling to London for the weekend to spend it with their parents and Alex has a music rehearsal. Apparently, her choir is performing in the Cathedral next month and they have to be 'super ready'.

So, no one has time for little old me. Boo-hoo.

'Daphne, stop moping around up there and come down for lunch,' Dad calls up the stairs.

I traipse moodily downstairs to find Dad, Granddad Tony and Billy all sat around the dining room table.

'I shall never eat again,' I declare dramatically, but Dad just pushes forward a plate of sweet potato chips and grilled cheese sandwiches. The sight of so many carbs weakens my resolve and I slowly sit down, pulling the plate towards me.

'Congratulations, that's got to be a new record. A whole ten seconds before you caved.'

'Doesn't mean I forgive you.'

'Of course not darling.'

4:00pm

Tick-tock, tick-tock...

Billy tried to cheer me up by farting in my room and running away.

If you ask me, he doesn't need babysitting. He's clearly all grown up. And trust me, Granddad Tony wouldn't notice if it was a talking baboon or me that was looking after him. He's too busy duct taping the windows for the impending blackouts.

Huh. It's raining. Look at that, the weather matches my mood, how fitting.

Dad comes upstairs after the lunchtime rush has died down, sitting down on my bed with a pitying look on his face.

'Scooby, I'm sorry you can't go out tonight.'

'Are you? Are you really?'

He sighs.

'You're fifteen years old Daphne. There will be plenty of other opportunities to go on dates with boys, trust me.'

'Yes, and I'm sure all of them will be princes.'

Dad pats me on the hand and smiles. 'You deserve more than a prince, Scoob. After all, you are a Queen.'

'Oh, really? In what realm?' I ask sarcastically.

'Well, the one in your head, mainly,' he laughs. 'Daphne, I really am sorry, but do this one thing for me and I'll owe you big time.'

'Big time enough that if I asked to move back to London you'd do it?'