No Worries by Bill Condon

everything,’ I said, ‘but I can hardly keep my eyes open.’
    She checked her face in the mirror as she replied, ‘I can understand that you’re tired. But you can’t sleep yet.’
    â€˜Why not?’
    â€˜Driving test. Today. Ten o’clock. Does any of that ring a bell?’
    â€˜Sure I remembered the test, Mum. I’m not stupid. I also have to go to the funeral of the vendor who died.’
    â€˜You didn’t tell me that.’
    â€˜Well, I’m telling you now.’
    â€˜Don’t talk to me in that tone of voice!’
    She flared up so quickly.
    â€˜What tone? Aw, forget it. I’m tired, that’s all. I don’t want to argue with you, Mum. Let’s just go home so I can get a couple of hours sleep before the test.’
    I could see this fight she was having with herself: Shall I snap at him? Shall I keep on trying to be nice?
    â€˜Try to understand this, Brian —’
    I’d been demoted to Brian again. Not a good sign. There was a sharp edge to her voice.
    â€˜I’ve been driving you to work and picking you up and I haven’t complained. Not once. But now I want to make sure you pass the test today. Is that fair? Tell me if I’m being difficult.’
    â€˜But I can drive, Mum. I’ll get my licence for sure.’
    She gave an exasperated sigh. Her patience was running out fast. The look she shot me said, Careful, boy .
    â€˜Put your cup away, Brian. Hurry up. You’re driving.’
    As she got out of the car I shimmied over behind the wheel.
    â€˜I’ll drive home. But straight home because I need to sleep.’
    â€˜You won’t bloody listen to me, will you?’
    She thumped her door shut as she got in and tossed away the rest of the doughnut. Mine went out the window too. I made sure she saw it go.
    â€˜I … am … trying … to … help … you.’
    She left a gap between each word as if I was new to the language.
    â€˜Okay then,’ I said, hating her for it, ‘let’s get it over with.’
    â€˜Are you quite sure?’
    â€˜Yes, I’m sure.’
    Mum clicked on her seatbelt and I reluctantly did the same.
    â€˜We might as well start right here. Reverse parking.’
    She looked behind her at a narrow space between two cars.
    â€˜You should be able to get in there.’
    â€˜You’re joking. That’s way too tight. And besides, I don’t want to do it here. Not while the blokes I work with are still hanging around.’
    Her lips were clenched tightly together.
    â€˜Just do it, will you, Brian.’
    I could do reverse parking with Dad. Not very well, and not the first go, but I could do it. Dad never picked spaces this tight, though. And there was never any pressure with him. With Mum it was all pressure.
    â€˜What are you waiting for? You will never pass a driving test if you can’t get into that space. There’s a mile of room.’
    I drove parallel to the car in front, then reversed into the space. Or tried to.
    â€˜Stop! You’re going to hit that car!’
    I drove out again and had another crack at it.
    â€˜Look where you’re going! No! No! God, you have no idea!’
    She reached over and turned off the ignition.
    â€˜What has your father been teaching you all this time?’
    â€˜I can do it, Mum. Just back off a bit, will you?’
    â€˜No. You cannot do it. You haven’t got a clue, Brian. It’s pointless you going for the test if you can’t do a simple reverse park. You’re wasting your time.’
    Maybe it was the tiredness that made me go for her.
    â€˜Get off my back, Mum. You give me the shits.’
    â€˜What did you say to me?’
    â€˜You heard. Stop bossing me around. I am not your little boy any more. And I know exactly what this is about. Not reverse parking. It’s about Dad.’
    â€˜You’re talking complete rubbish, Brian. Your father has nothing to