‘Oh, I don’t know, we need to get back, our neighbour’s looking after the dogs.’ said Dad doubtfully, but Mum nearly snapped his hand off.
‘How lovely!’ she trilled.
Dad was outvoted, somehow, even though I was on his side.
‘But my article,’ I said to Jasper.
‘How long is it?’
‘Two thousand words.’
‘That’s nothing. You can do that in an evening. Come on. Let’s go. I’m freezing my bloody boll– Pardon my French. Spent too long in France this year. My house is warm and the cupboards are full of food. Mr and Mrs Wells, you are more than welcome.’
The teacups were replaced, still half-full, on the tray and everyone made a dash for the coat pegs.
‘You’d better come with us, Sarah,’ said Dad. ‘We’ll need directions.’
‘You can follow Jasper, can’t you?’ I said, wanting a private conversation with that gentleman before the situation grew much older.
But Jasper foiled me. ‘He could lose sight of me on the dual carriageway. If you get stuck behind a lorry, you could miss the turn-off. Better go with your Mum and Dad, love.’
Argh! He called me ‘love’. How many more signposts did my parents need?
I followed them to their car and got into the back seat – an act that made me feel small and childish once more, not the confident adult I was aiming to project.
‘Is it far?’ asked Dad, easing out of the space and following Jasper to the end of the road.
‘No. Ten minutes or so. I took the summer job there because it was so handy for the museum. Thought I could go up and visit at weekends, get myself fully prepared.’
‘And you’re still in touch?’ said Dad, turning the corner. ‘He’s quite a bit older than you, isn’t he?’
‘About twelve, thirteen years, I think,’ I said vaguely.
‘Pushing forty,’ said Dad. ‘And you’re fresh out of college.’
Mum tutted. ‘Oh, Geoff. I think he seems lovely.’
‘Obviously loaded,’ continued Dad. ‘I expect he can pay for anything he wants. I expect he’s used to getting everything he wants.’
He gave me a look in the rear-view mirror. I avoided it and glared through the window.
‘I wouldn’t know about that,’ I said stiffly.
‘Come on, love, do you think we were born yesterday? He certainly wasn’t.’
Mum intervened, pouring her rose-scented oil on to the troubled waters.
‘Give them a break,’ she said. ‘Goodness, it’s not as if he’s some low-life character. He seems very nice, he’s got a good job and earns good money and he’s got a bit of life experience. What on earth’s wrong with that?’
Dad was silent, but his eyes were narrow, focusing intently on getting into the right lane of the dual carriageway.
‘I don’t really care what my friends earn,’ I said. ‘Or how old they are. If you get on, you get on.’
‘Quite,’ said Mum.
‘And then, when you’ve had enough, you get off,’ said Dad.
‘Dad!’ I wasn’t sure what he meant, but it sounded rude. He probably didn’t intend it to, but all the same …