Carrying a plate of cookies and juice as olive branch I knock on her bedroom door and pray to every merciful god in the universe to put her in a reasonably civil mood…

Daughter: Come in…

It’s sounding hopeful…no heavy, tired sigh or the usual..’What!!??!’…I enter her squat of a bedroom and place the treats on the table beside her bed…she glances up from her mobile and beams..

Daughter: So kind of you mother..

This person is an imposter….

Daughter: But they’re so so very far away mother…

I have to consciously stop myself from scowling or doing something weird with my eyebrows….I really don’t like it when she calls me mother like that…

Me: What…?

Daughter: The cookies, mother….and the drink…so very far away…

She makes a theatrical gesture with her arm as if it’s all suddenly too much…….reaches for the cookies and juice a few inches away from her, almost touching them, not quite…

Daughter: So…so far away mother…

Me: Perhaps if you got off your backside they wouldn’t be…

Daughter: Would you hand them to me mother dear, would you please…?

Me: For godsakes…!!

Daughter: I’m not going to be on a gap year, travelling across South America and bump into my long-lost brother am I ?

Me: What ?

Daughter: A long-lost brother on the other side of the world.

Me: You’ve lost me.

Daughter: Is there something you need to tell me mother ?

Me: What ?

Daughter: Is there…..another child ?

Me: Don’t be ridiculous.

Daughter: These things are better out in the open.

Me: If I had another child I would know.

Daughter: Are you sure ?

Me: I think I would know if I had another child.

Daughter: You think ?

Me: Can you..stop!

Me: J’s got a fantastic work opportunity in Miami…

Daughter: What’s he doing there ?

Me: Repairs and paint finishes in a pop star’s house on Miami beach..

I tell her who the pop star is and wait for her to be visibly impressed…. She rolls her eyes, returning to the more important business of checking posts on her Facebook wall….then, from the mysterious, unfathomable regions of a teenager’s mind comes….

Daughter: What if he cheats on you..?

I fix her with a look that says ‘Can’t quite believe you said that.. though of course it’s possible J simply wouldn’t because angels don’t ever ever behave that way…’

Daughter: Just remember mum…what happens in Miami stays in Miami…..

I can’t help but feel somewhat …crestfallen…

Me: Could you please take your laundry to your room

I thrust her newly washed belongings into gangly arms before she has a chance to mention the next must-see episode of some dark & obscure gothic TV series she just has to watch…

Me: You’ve dropped a sock.

Daughter: Yes mother…it has fallen to earth, and it lies there… fragile and broken… like my hopes, my dreams…my aspirations….

Browsing the film section in a high street store selling second-hand computer games and DVDs I call home to ask if she wants anything….

Me: Have you seen ‘Chef’?  It’s a wonderful, uplifting, charming film..Maybe we could watch it together..

Daughter: None of those adjectives work for me mum…

Me:  How about ‘Mr Turner’…..the film about the eccentric British painter…stunning watercolour landscapes…unfettered creative passion…wonderful scenery….. tour de force performance by Timothy Spall….

A pregnant pause…then…

Daughter: What?!!!!!!?!!!!

And then….

Daughter: What?!!!!

Me: OK, what would you like?

Daughter: Have they got Sin City?

I run my finger along films starting with the letter S……

Me: That’s an 18 Cert and contains strong bloody violence

Daughter: Your point ..?

Me: Anyway they don’t have it..

Daughter: Supernatural?

I find the requested DVD in the TV series section and peruse the sleeve..

Me: It contains bloody violence and gore..

Daughter: Sorry you’ve lost me.

Me: Anyway…they don’t seem to have that either…

Daughter: Kill Bill 2?

Don’t have to find the DVD to know it’s Quentin Tarantino so flowers and sunsets and adorable fluffy puppies WON’T be in it..

Me: No, sorry..

A long long pause……..

Daughter: Mum, I know you’re lying ….

Me: Why would I do that…?

Daughter: Because you don’t want me watching films containing gore and violence….however, you should know that as a teenager I am duty bound to defy you and will of course watch them anyway…

I lament the disappearance of a cute 6 year old with several missing teeth…

Me: I am slightly disturbed by the films you seem drawn to. Have you noticed how they are seldom without blood…gore…violence…death….?

Daughter: This from the woman who made me watch U-Carmen with her when I was still in primary school….

Me: Did I?

Daughter: Yes mum..

Me: You have such a good memory…!!

Daughter: Yes….I remember someone being slapped…..and then there was singing…someone being strangled…. and then there was singing….and someone being stabbed up against a mesh wire fence outside a church….and then…. there was singing..

Me: And wasn’t the singing glorious!

Daughter: You know how you said you were slightly disturbed…?

Daughter: Did you get my jacket?

Me: Yes

Daughter: Did you get the name and number of the hairdressers on Coldharbour Lane?

Me: Yes

Daughter: And did you manage to fix my trousers?

Me: For godsakes!

Daughter: And the body?

Me: What?

Daughter: Did you find the body…….?

We’re heading home after Parents Evening. I’m floating on cloud 9, feeling I might just implode with pride & love. She’s walking tall, so much taller…. after glowing feedback from her teachers…but still…she finds something to complain about…

Daughter: Look what you’ve done to me!

I am of course flummoxed…

Me: What?

My daughter points to her thick and unruly beautiful eyebrows…and glares at me…

Me: Your eyebrows…?

Daughter: Look at them !  They start and then just..end. They end, mum. End.

Me: All eyebrows end..

Daughter: Not like this.

Me: Can you hear yourself?

We walk for a while in comfortable silence until…

Daughter: You and dad really should’ve have considered the consequences before you had sex…

Daughter: I have often looked at that door and thought..oh how I wish I could be that.

Me: A door ?

Daughter: Yes mother, a door…

She sounds a little too much like Norman Bates in Hitchcock’s Psycho when she says mother like that….

A few minutes later…

Daughter: Mother..

I turn to look at my daughter, giving her my undivided attention…

Daughter: Have you ever asked yourself this: …..When you walk through a door..are you…..walking in…or walking out ?

My daughter’s Samsung Chrome-book decides to stop working, necessitating her use of my beloved Mac to complete homework assignments……and watch nonsense on demand …..

Me: I think maybe your Chrome-book might be overheated….so to avoid such a thing happening to my Mac you can use it from 6.30 to 10.30 at night….as opposed to all day..

Daughter looks horrified….no, pained as if suddenly in the grip of excruciating pain…

Daughter: So you’re telling me that when I get home from school I have to wait 2 hours before I can go online….

Me: The world does not revolve around the internet….

Daughter: I think you’ll find it does mother…

Me: The point is…there are other activities to engage with…read a book……write a short story…you’re an artist…paint a picture….

My daughter scans my face in search of..sanity…

Me: If you have to go online you can always use your phone…

She ponders on the idea…

Daughter: I think I might use the 2 hours to strangle myself with the cord of my phone charger so I get to heaven and Jesus will be there feeding the 5000 and he’ll give me something to do…like maybe hand out napkins or something….

She’s in the kitchen pretending to wash dirty dishes….music blaring from her headphones, head bobbing from side to side…she’s on planet Bliss….I tap her lightly on the shoulder…

Me: I’m doing laundry. Do you have anything dark to wash?

The water stops running…..slowly, very slowly she turns to face me…& whispers…

Daughter: My soul….

Me: For godsakes!!!