to the chocolate digestives balanced on top of the tin. ‘Come inside, I’ll put the kettle on and we can have a nice catch-up,’ she says warmly.
*
I can barely move, I’m that stuffed. Between us, we managed to polish off all the food and just about stagger to the lounge with its swirly patterned carpet and big squishy sofas, where we’re now enjoying a cup of tea and a pile of biscuits. It would have been rude not to. Nancy laid them all out on a big silver platter and made a proper pot of tea with rose-patterned china cups on saucers, milk in a matching jug and sugar cubes in a bowl set out on a doily-covered tray.
‘So, where are you planning on taking Daisy?’ It’s Tom who finally addresses the whopping big elephant in the room – somehow, the actual reason for our impromptu visit got avoided over lunch.
‘Well, we want to cover as much ground as we can,’ Dad starts. ‘The glorious French countryside, I’ve always fancied wandering through a vineyard. Then, on to Spain. We might even hop over to Marrakesh to visit the souks.’
‘Yes that would be marvellous.’ Nancy joins in. ‘I’d love a pair of those colourful canvas shoes they sell with the tassels on. Just like Aladdin wears. We could bring you back a pair, Georgie.’ Nancy beams and I manage a smile, already concocting a plan inside my head as to how my new Aladdin shoes might mysteriously disappear. ‘And what about Turkey?’ Nancy continues.
‘Oh yes. We could have a suck on one of those hookah pipes, love!’ Daaad. Nooooo. Just no! My jaw drops – I stare at Dad and Nancy, goggle-eyed and speechless, as they both nod enthusiastically. What’s going on? This isn’t the Dad and Nancy I know – Dad, especially, is usually so traditional, set in his ways, with his old-school views and values, but now? Well, it’s as if they’ve been possessed by a pair of much younger, and far funkier free-thinkers. Next they’ll be doing t’ai chi on Mulberry Common and converting to Buddhism.
‘The rose-fragranced hookah is supposed to be the best – that’s what they were saying on that programme we watched last week. Have you seen it, Georgie?’ Nancy says, earnestly. ‘It’s on the Discovery Channel and called Travel the World Before It’s Too Late , or something like that.’
Ahh, I get it, now it’s all starting to make sense – they’ve been watching too much television and have got carried away; turned into armchair explorers, only their armchair is sunshine yellow, camper-van-shaped and with a special pet name, Daisy!
‘And Italy, we can’t miss that out – Tom, you’ll have to jot down the best places for us to visit.’ Dad grins while Tom nods before glancing at me with a circumspect look on his face. ‘We’re not getting any younger, so who knows when we might get the chance again,’ Dad finishes cheerily, before plopping three sugar cubes in his tea and giving it a good stir, seemingly oblivious to the enormity of the trip he’s about to undertake.
‘Wow, that’s some itinerary you have there, George.’ Tom looks impressed as he lets out a long puff of air. ‘So, how long do you reckon you’ll be away for?’
‘Ooh, a good few months, I reckon. Certainly the whole summer. Back in September some time, I reckon …’
‘ Months? But Dad you can’t go away for months !’ I blurt out, instantly wishing I didn’t sound like a moany teenager all of a sudden. Tom surreptitiously squeezes my hand.
‘Why not?’ Dad frowns.
‘Well, um … what if something happens?’ I ask, thinking: so much for a day trip to Calais … this is a proper road trip they have planned – they could be bombing around Lake Garda negotiating hairpin bends before the week is out!
‘Like what?’ Dad helps himself to a custard cream and then gives it a good dunk in his tea.
‘I think Georgie’s just a bit worried about your health,’ Tom says diplomatically.
‘Yes, what about your angina? I bet your GP won’t be
*
I can barely move, I’m that stuffed. Between us, we managed to polish off all the food and just about stagger to the lounge with its swirly patterned carpet and big squishy sofas, where we’re now enjoying a cup of tea and a pile of biscuits. It would have been rude not to. Nancy laid them all out on a big silver platter and made a proper pot of tea with rose-patterned china cups on saucers, milk in a matching jug and sugar cubes in a bowl set out on a doily-covered tray.
‘So, where are you planning on taking Daisy?’ It’s Tom who finally addresses the whopping big elephant in the room – somehow, the actual reason for our impromptu visit got avoided over lunch.
‘Well, we want to cover as much ground as we can,’ Dad starts. ‘The glorious French countryside, I’ve always fancied wandering through a vineyard. Then, on to Spain. We might even hop over to Marrakesh to visit the souks.’
‘Yes that would be marvellous.’ Nancy joins in. ‘I’d love a pair of those colourful canvas shoes they sell with the tassels on. Just like Aladdin wears. We could bring you back a pair, Georgie.’ Nancy beams and I manage a smile, already concocting a plan inside my head as to how my new Aladdin shoes might mysteriously disappear. ‘And what about Turkey?’ Nancy continues.
‘Oh yes. We could have a suck on one of those hookah pipes, love!’ Daaad. Nooooo. Just no! My jaw drops – I stare at Dad and Nancy, goggle-eyed and speechless, as they both nod enthusiastically. What’s going on? This isn’t the Dad and Nancy I know – Dad, especially, is usually so traditional, set in his ways, with his old-school views and values, but now? Well, it’s as if they’ve been possessed by a pair of much younger, and far funkier free-thinkers. Next they’ll be doing t’ai chi on Mulberry Common and converting to Buddhism.
‘The rose-fragranced hookah is supposed to be the best – that’s what they were saying on that programme we watched last week. Have you seen it, Georgie?’ Nancy says, earnestly. ‘It’s on the Discovery Channel and called Travel the World Before It’s Too Late , or something like that.’
Ahh, I get it, now it’s all starting to make sense – they’ve been watching too much television and have got carried away; turned into armchair explorers, only their armchair is sunshine yellow, camper-van-shaped and with a special pet name, Daisy!
‘And Italy, we can’t miss that out – Tom, you’ll have to jot down the best places for us to visit.’ Dad grins while Tom nods before glancing at me with a circumspect look on his face. ‘We’re not getting any younger, so who knows when we might get the chance again,’ Dad finishes cheerily, before plopping three sugar cubes in his tea and giving it a good stir, seemingly oblivious to the enormity of the trip he’s about to undertake.
‘Wow, that’s some itinerary you have there, George.’ Tom looks impressed as he lets out a long puff of air. ‘So, how long do you reckon you’ll be away for?’
‘Ooh, a good few months, I reckon. Certainly the whole summer. Back in September some time, I reckon …’
‘ Months? But Dad you can’t go away for months !’ I blurt out, instantly wishing I didn’t sound like a moany teenager all of a sudden. Tom surreptitiously squeezes my hand.
‘Why not?’ Dad frowns.
‘Well, um … what if something happens?’ I ask, thinking: so much for a day trip to Calais … this is a proper road trip they have planned – they could be bombing around Lake Garda negotiating hairpin bends before the week is out!
‘Like what?’ Dad helps himself to a custard cream and then gives it a good dunk in his tea.
‘I think Georgie’s just a bit worried about your health,’ Tom says diplomatically.
‘Yes, what about your angina? I bet your GP won’t be
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