Rummaging around in my bag, I had a realisation that I’d forgotten something.
‘You’re going to have to pretend to be my dad,’ I hushed as we approached the till with a bottle of wine in hand. ‘I haven’t got my ID.’
Able to hold himself with grand confidence and a glimmer of grey showing through in his stubble, I knew that Mars wouldn’t have a problem.
‘Ah this is for me, she’s my daughter,’ he grinned as I nodded innocently.
And coming out of the supermarket with a bottle of wine in hand, we’d done it.
Only, it wasn’t the first time that Mars had found himself in this position.
‘Can you go and get your father to hurry up,’ the shop assistant insisted when we’d been out clothes shopping together.
‘You’ve made
