"So!" said Mum. "Salmon, Elaine?" "Thank you," said Elaine.
"We went to Miss Saigon the other night!" Mum began with dangerous brightness.
"Baah! Musicals. Can't bloody stand 'em, load of bloody ponces," muttered Admiral Darcy as Elaine served him a piece of salmon.
"Well, we enjoyed it" said Mum. "Anyway..."
I looked frantically out of the window for some sort of inspiration and saw Wellington looking at me. "Help," I mouthed. He nodded towards the kitchen and disappeared,
"Standing around with their legs apart bellowing," roared the Admiral, a man after my own heart. "Now Gilbert and Sullivan. HMS Pinafore, that's a different thing."
"Excuse me a moment," I said, and slipped out, ignoring Mum's furious stare.
Dashed into the kitchen to find Wellington already there. I slumped against the fridge freezer.
What?" he said, looking at my eyes intently. "What is wrong?"
"She thinks she's one of the elders of the tribe," I whispered. "She's taking on Mark's parents, you know Mark, who we saw. . ."
He nodded. "I know all about this."
"What have you been saying to her? She's trying to engineer some powwow about him seeing Rebecca as if. . ."
Just then the kitchen door burst open.
"Bridget! What are you doing in here? Oh." Spotting Wellington, Mum rather stopped in her tracks.
"Pamela?" said Wellington. "What is happening?"
"Well, I just thought after what you said, we adults could ... could sort something out!" she said, recovering her confidence and almost managing a beam.
"You were adopting the behaviours of our tribe?" said Wellington.
"Well ... I..."
"Pamela. Your culture has evolved over many centuries. When outside influence appears you must not allow it to infect and dilute your birthright. As we discussed, worldwide travel brings a responsibility to observe, not to destroy." Could not help wondering how Wellington's brand new CD Walkman fitted into all this, but Mum was nodding penitently. Had never seen her so under anyone's spell before.
"Now. Return to your guests and leave Bridget's courtship be, as is the time-old tradition of your tribe."
"Well I suppose you're right," she said, patting her hair. "Enjoy your lunch," said Wellington, giving me the slightest of winks.
Back in the dining room, it seemed that Mark's mother had already deftly deflected the showdown. "It's a total mystery to me how anyone gets married to anyone these days," she was saying. "If I hadn't married so young I'd never have done it."
"Oh, I quite agree!" said Dad, rather too heartily. "What I don't understand," said Uncle Geoffrey, "is how a woman manages to get to Bridget's age without hooking anyone. New York, Outer Space, off they go! Wheee!"
"Oh, just shut up Shut up!" I felt like yelling.
"It's very hard for young people now," Elaine interrupted again, looking hard at me. "One can marry anyone when one is eighteen. But when one's character is formed, taking on the reality of a man must seem insufferable. Present company excepted of course."
"I should hope so," roared Mark's father merrily, patting her arm. "Otherwise, I'm going to have to swap you for two thirty-somethings. Why should my son have all the fun!" He gave a gallant nod in my direction at which my heart lurched again. Did he think we were still together? Or did he know about Rebecca and think Mark was going out with us both?
Thankfully the conversation then steamed back to HMS Pinafore, bounced on to Wellington's football skills, swung out on to Geoffrey and Dad's golfing holiday, fluttered over herbaceous borders, skimmed Bill's drive and then it was 3.45 and the whole nightmare was over.
Elaine pressed a couple of Sobranies into my hand as they left - "I think you might need these for the drive back. I do hope we see you again" - which seemed encouraging but not enough to build one's life on. It was Mark I wanted to go out with again not, unfortunately, his parents.
"Right, darling," said Mum, bustling out of the kitchen with a Tupperware box. "Where've you put your bag?" "Mum," I said through clenched teeth. "I don't want any food."
"Are you all right, darling?"