Daddy's Little Princess

“Mary had a little lamb, little lamb…Mary had a-” Francesca was showing off her singing skills in the middle of Tesco’s supermarket as Oliver internally battled with himself to keep it together.

“Princess, keep it down.” Oliver murmurs, kissing her warm forehead, Francesca quietened but continued to sing, in tune Oliver had to admit. He pushed the trolley further and put a tin of baked beans into the metal trolley.

Oliver didn’t hear the person coming round the corner, and suddenly banged into something. Francesca yelped at the backlash and without thinking Oliver held her close.

“You okay baby?” Oliver asks immediately, holding his daughter’s head and checking for any imperfections, blood or bruising. She hadn’t hit anything, but he couldn’t help but check anyway. Oliver then realized, he had hit something. Another trolley.

Oliver’s eyes trailed up and widened as he saw the girl from the café, the one who drank the iced water and ate pizza with the sniggering idiots. It was her, the beautiful one.

“I’m so sorry!” Oliver blurting out, ignoring his brain to have self control. The girl smiled carelessly.

“It’s okay, it was my fault…I’m so clumsy.” she says, her voice was soft and feminine just how Oliver believed it should be. He couldn’t stop the smile appearing on his face, feeling odd around the girl.

“Is your daughter alright?” the girls asks, seeing Francesca looking at Oliver curiously, sucking her thumb while doing so.

“Um, yeah…she is.” Oliver says, coming back to reality, placing both his hands on the bar.

“Well, I better go…sorry again.” the girl says, smiling softly, turning the trolley away and strolled away, and Oliver didn’t understand why he felt disappointed.

“She’s pretty Daddy” Francesca informs her father, who smiled at her. He chuckles gently.

“She is, isn’t she princess?” Oliver whispers, not wanting people to hear. Oliver moved swiftly to the next aisle, putting all the necessities into the trolley.

“Was Mommy pretty?” Francesca asks suddenly, in a tone that Oliver couldn’t defer. Oliver stopped reading the label on the box of chocolate cereal pops that his daughter wanted. He saw the sugar content and immediately put it back.

“You’re Mommy?” Oliver repeats nervously, he hated it whenever she brought it up. Which she had, numerous times. Oliver never wanted to tell her the truth, even when she was older. He knew that if she found out, she’d never think of her mother in the same way again.

“Was Mommy pretty too?” Francesca asks innocently. Oliver looks around, hoping for some inspiration.

“Your Mommy was very pretty Francesca.” Oliver says seriously, praying that she wouldn’t ask for more. But Oliver hadn’t got what he wanted in a long time, he doubted that it would start now.

“Do I have a Mommy?” Francesca asks, her mind whirring with confusion. Oliver nods, regretting doing so.

“Where is she Daddy?” Francesca asks brightly, misunderstanding as why Oliver looked so miserable and bitter.

“She’s far away, princess.” Oliver says distantly, and he quickly picked up a pack of porridge.

“Honey or Cinnamon?” he offers, showing her the two boxes. He hoped this would distract her and silence the endless questions that she asked. Francesca immediately picks the yellow box, the Honey porridge. Oliver rolled his eyes, knowing it was because it had the most sweetness. His daughter had quite the sweet-tooth.

“Good choice.” he says, tapping her nose and putting the box into the trolley. Francesca giggles, an musical sound to Oliver’s ears. He smiled tenderly, and continued to involve Francesca in the shopping.

“Mary had a little lamb…” Francesca starts again and Oliver almost sighed with relief. After he got everything he needed, and paying for it. He packed everything into his car, which was now filled up and strapped Francesca into her car seat, which she loathed with great passion.

After the battle of the car seat, Oliver got into his own seat, starting the second hand car, he begun his way home, the dark grey clouds hovering above him, metaphorically and literally as rain begun to pour down.

“Rain, Rain, go away, come back another day!” Francesca begins to sing and Oliver continuously regretted teaching his daughter those songs.