Dad interrupted. ‘My friend from the meditation centre.’

‘Emma,’ I said. ‘What about her?’

‘There’s a bit of a thing,’ Dad said.

‘A thing?’

‘A developing thing, I suppose you could say.’

I started to grin and had to restrain myself. ‘A romantic kind of thing?’ I asked.

‘Yes,’ Dad said, still staring out of the window. ‘Potentially.’

‘Do you want to bring her?’ I asked. ‘Is that it? Because—’

‘No, I couldn’t possibly,’ Dad said. ‘We’re . . . not . . . you know . . .’

I squeezed his shoulder.

‘We’re not there, yet,’ he said.

‘Oh,’ I said, still stifling a smile. ‘And what? You don’t want to interrupt a work in progress by vanishing to Spain for three weeks?’

‘Yes, something like that,’ Dad said, finally turning to look at me but quickly averting his gaze again by staring at his hands instead. ‘There’s another chap hanging around, so . . .’

I nodded and pushed my tongue into my cheek as I struggled not to smirk. Dad glanced at me and misinterpreted the resulting facial expression. ‘You’re angry, aren’t you?’ he said.

‘Angry?’

‘It’s a perfectly normal reaction,’ he said. ‘But you need to understand that I’m not trying to replace your mother. That’s not what this is about at all. Your mother—’

Finally I couldn’t hold it in any longer, so I let my laughter break free. ‘I’m so not angry, Dad,’ I told him, tears in my eyes. ‘I just . . . I suppose I didn’t . . . Well . . . I didn’t think you had it in you, I guess. You naughty old sod.’

‘I’m only sixty-nine!’ Dad said. ‘Jesus, I’m not dead, boy.’ And then he pushed me to one side, shook his head, and started to shuffle ridiculously from the room. Only as he reached the doorway did he remember that he no longer needed to limp.

That Sunday night, over dairy-free cauliflower ‘cheese’, Amy expressed her irritation.

‘I’ve spent a lot of money on this, Joe,’ she said. ‘It was supposed to be a treat for him, for Christ’s sake, not something for him to worm his way out of.’

‘He’s not worming out of it, honey,’ I told her. ‘And it’s only a treat if he actually wants to go. You can’t make someone want the treat you’ve chosen.’

‘But he did want to go. I booked the flight for him and everything.’

‘And now he doesn’t want to go,’ I explained reasonably. ‘He’s an adult. He’s changed his mind.’

‘Oh, can you convince him, Joe?’ Amy asked, putting down her fork to raise her hands in prayer. ‘Please?’

I shook my head and laughed. ‘I don’t even want him to change his mind. He’s almost seventy, hon. And he’s got a chance, this totally unexpected last chance, to not spend the rest of his life alone. I can’t believe that you’d want him to give that up either – not if you really think about it.’

‘But that can wait three weeks, can’t it? I mean, she’s not going to run off with someone else the second his back’s turned, is she? Not at that age.’

‘Well, apparently there is some other guy sniffing around, so . . .’

‘What does sniffing around mean?’ Ben asked.

‘Daddy didn’t mean that.’

‘No, bad choice of words,’ I agreed.

‘Anyway, he could bring her,’ Amy said. ‘The more the merrier.’

‘I suggested that. I told you already. But it’s a no.’

Amy sighed and forked a lump of cauliflower from her plate, then, waving it at me, continued, ‘Well, the place is too big for just the three of us. It’s got five bedrooms, for God’s sake.’

‘I don’t think there’s a rule that you have to use them all,’ I said. ‘They’re not going to apply the bedroom tax or anything.’

‘I already paid the damn bedroom tax when I booked it. It was almost a thousand pounds.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ I said. ‘Relax.’

‘It’s just a bit obscene,’ Amy said, speaking through food now. ‘His flight will go to waste, too.’

‘It was fifty quid,’ I protested. ‘Who cares?’

‘I was thinking more about the carbon footprint of that empty seat,’ Amy explained. ‘Maybe we could change the name on the ticket and invite someone else. Maybe I’ll invite Wanda to join us. She knows the area—’

‘No,’ I interrupted, raising one finger and wiggling it in what I hoped was a comic manner.

Amy leaned forward and stared at me. ‘No?’ she said.

‘Um, yeah. That’s an absolute no to that one from me.’

‘No to Wanda? Or no to anyone?’

‘No to anyone. And a definite total absolute no to Wanda.’

‘What’s wrong with Wanda? She’s my friend.’

‘Yeah. Wanda’s great. But I’m not going on holiday with her,’ I said. ‘Ever.’

‘You . . .’ Amy said, shaking her head. ‘Joe, then? What about Joe?’

‘He’s twenty-five. He has a girlfriend. He has far better things to do than go on holiday with his boss.’

‘Or Marius,’ Amy said. ‘I bet Marius can’t afford many posh holidays.’

‘Hey, Marius is doing fine, thank you very much. You make it sound like I don’t pay the guy.’

‘He always looks pretty broke to me.’

‘Only because he sends all his money back to Romania,’ I said. ‘And actually, Romania’s where he’s going for his hols, so . . .’

‘Mum?’ Ben said.

‘It just seems a waste, that’s all,’ Amy said, before turning to Ben and asking, ‘Yes, dear?’

‘Can’t we invite Lucy?’

‘Lucy?’ I said. ‘Who’s Lucy?’

‘Lucy’s that little girl he hangs around with,’ Amy informed me with a wink. ‘His best friend.’

‘She’s not got a holiday this year,’ Ben said. ‘So maybe she could come with us. To Spain.’

I laughed and started to reply, ‘You can’t just invite—’ But Amy was speaking too.

‘She’s the one who lives up the road, right? The one you play with sometimes at school?’

Ben nodded. ‘At least I’d have someone to play with,’ he said, looking plaintive.

‘That’s true, actually,’ Amy told him, turning to me.

‘Amy . . .’ I told her in a special listen to me tone of voice.

She raised an eyebrow at me questioningly.

I shook my head definitively. ‘Don’t get his hopes up,’ I said. ‘It’s not happening.’

‘OK, let’s talk about this another time,’ Amy said, addressing Ben. ‘Anyway, what else did you get up to at Grandad’s?’

That night

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