“Yes, love!” That’s what I heard the woman with the pram say into her phone. “Little Jordan is fast asleep right now. But she’ll need a feed soon. Oh, and will you fetch Noah from the crèche on your way home? You know how he loves it when you collect him … Thanks, ET… Love you too. You’re the best Daddy ever!”

Jordan? Noah? ET? Spare ribs?

I rush out of the store, rush past the lingerie shop without even seeing it. I am shaking all over, struggling to breathe. I dump the pastel-pink-and-blue packet from the baby store into a nearby bin, onesie and all.

Somehow I get myself back to my flat without having a crash. I throw myself down on the bed. I am still shaking, still in shock. Trying to remember if I truly heard those names coming out of that mother’s mouth.

Is she truly Etienne’s wife? Is she really Mary? Or did I imagine it all? Did I just hallucinate this terrible, twisted ending to some nasty short story?

The bedroom grows dark around me. Etienne calls and I switch off the phone without answering. I don’t want to hear his voice, whispering so his wife can’t hear.

No doubt Mary is there in his kitchen, frying his spare ribs, still looking lovely and well-groomed. While Baby Jordan lies in her pram in her new onesie that says, ‘Daddy’s Princess’. And little Noah plays happily on the floor, smiling because his daddy collected him from the crèche.

There is a rustle beneath my pillow – and I remember the magazine with its short story, Truth Warrior, that I haven’t finished. I pull it out and switch on my bedside light.

Yes, let me find out what happened to Palesa, the journalist with the burning desire for truth. And to her supportive husband Larona. Maybe even to that photographer, whatever his name was.

I know Mr Tsiana said reading makes you examine your life. But reading can also be an escape from your life, a way to stop thinking about it. Well, that’s what I think anyway. Especially a short story in a magazine. Surely?

And right now, I don’t want to think about my life! I don’t want to think about what I have just discovered. I want to blot it all out.

Truth Warrior – Scene Three

It is evening. Palesa phones her husband. She tells him today was a triumph. She was able to catch the councillor out in his lie.

“The truth is all that matters,” says Palesa. “I can’t stand people who have no respect for the truth.”

“You’re amazing!” says her husband. “We should celebrate. When will you be home?”

And then …

And then I read the final paragraph – and burst out laughing. The ending is so funny – in a sick, twisted way. It feels good to laugh. For a moment, I forget all about Mary and the baby store. The real Mary, not the Mary of Etienne’s lies.

Yes, reading can be a perfect escape, Mr Tsiana!

***

Tell us: Do you ever read as a form of escape? How do you think Palesa’s story ends?