‘Eat it slowly, I know how you are with Kit Kats. You inhale them,’ my mum adds.
She puts a hand to Dad’s brow and I see Cameron observe the tactile nature of their relationship. You really have no idea.
Mum’s phone rings. ‘Oh my days, it’s your brother. I’m just going to take this outside so the nurse doesn’t shout at me again.’ Before she goes, she dips her hand in Cameron’s bag and takes out some crisps for herself, then winks at him. Yes, my parents are big winkers, get used to that.
‘Thank you for being here, Cameron. For looking out for Josie,’ Dad says, scanning the length of his body again, trying to assess what this lad is about. ‘I need to ask you a dad question now, don’t I? What are your intentions towards my daughter, young man?’ he says, his tone changing.
‘They’re totally honourable, sir.’
Dad glances over to me. I like him, Dad. Give this a chance, whatever it is.
‘Well then, it’s really good to have you here.’
‘Thanks, Fabio. Is that Italian?’
‘It is,’ my dad says, nodding, flattening out his bottom lip. ‘My family are from Milan.’
‘I like your football club… and your salami,’ Cameron says.
Dad and I stop in silence, trying not to erupt in hysterics. Please don’t talk about my dad’s salami.
TWELVE
‘Hold up, you’re where now?’ I ask Cameron on the phone, standing in Brett and Tina’s flat.
‘I’m at your house.’
The colour drains from my face. Cameron and I haven’t done this yet, the houses thing. We meet for dates, we snog in bushes and do carnal things on phones, but this is where I live. We’ve not invaded each other’s space in that way. Yet. For one, you’ll find out that like some sad case, I live at home and there is far too much there that might give the game away: the photos of Sonny, the yoni sculpture in the living room, the cupboard under the stairs where I’m currently storing a box of multicoloured vibrators that need to be posted out. I feel the panic envelop me.
‘Your mum invited me round for a coffee. We got talking at the hospital and she said they had problems with their Wi-Fi and I said it was a really easy fix.’
I pause. If you have problems with the Wi-Fi, you call Roger, who’s the IT man at The Love Shack, you don’t call my potential love interest. This is her being nosey.
‘Your parents love Christmas, eh?’ he tells me.
He has no idea. With the big day in a fortnight’s time, they’ve gone for broke, in the same way they did at Halloween. An animatronic reindeer on the garage, an eight-foot tree, a lights display that is likely to be reported by air-traffic control for interfering with flight patterns in the Greater London area.
‘That they do. Is my dad there too?’ I ask.
‘Propping up the sofa, it’s good to see him better.’
‘How many questions have they asked you?’
‘It’s going into the hundreds. They’re very sweet questions, though.’
‘Like?’
‘She asked me my shoe size.’
I blush. Hard. ‘She did what? Is she buying you shoes?’
‘I hope so. Christmasisaround the corner. She got out some baby photos too. That naked one of you on the potty is a winner. Your graduation pictures. I liked the fringe.’
I can’t speak. Please, no.
‘I’m so sorry. I should be there… To at least throw myself in the way of that car crash…’
‘Well, it would have been good to see you. You’re babysitting?’
