The secret diary of a single parent bloke
We’d run out of milk, so I said I’d nip to the shop at the end of the road and pick some up. I went out, walked past the front of the house, and looked in. Katrina was now on her mobile. I turned around and went back in. The mobile had gone.
“Who were you talking to?” I enquired.
“Nobody, I wasn’t on the phone”
“Yes you were, I saw you”
“I tried to call my Nan, but there was no answer”
“So you were on the phone? Can I have it, please?”
“Want to find out who you were calling.”
Kat turned the phone off, and handed it to me. I turned it back on, and it requested a code.
“What’s the code?”
“Why? Because I can’t see who you called until the code’s been entered”
“My Nan, I told you”
“Then why are you hiding it?”
With that, she snatched the phone off me and ran upstairs, locking herself in the bathroom. After a few minutes, she came downstairs and handed the phone to me.
“See, I haven’t called anybody”
“No, you’ve never called anybody at all. Ever. Why have you deleted the call log?”
The argument carried on. She must think that I’m stupid. It’s obvious that she was calling him again. What can I do? She flatly denies that she’s seeing anybody, and refuses to even talk. Everything she says is a lie.