Page 72 of Where Do We Go From Here?
‘Look, I know, all right? Jesus!’
…
‘If it’s that important then talk to her yourself.’
…
‘Exactly.’
…
‘Well, then!’
…
‘And don’t hassle me. It’ll just make her suspicious if you keep phoning me up.’
…
‘I know. I’m just saying. Yeah, you, too. Oh, and don’t forget to wish her a merry Crimbo.’
…
‘No, not today, you twat! Tomorrow! Honestly, sometimes you scare me, Todd.’
…
Wendy flushes the toilet and washes her hands before returning to find Fiona seated sipping coffee.
‘Who was that, then?’ she asks, as casually as she can.
‘Oh, just a friend. Someone from school,’ Fiona says.
‘Really?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I thought I saw Todd’s name flash up.’
Fiona laughs convincingly. ‘Um, more than one Todd on the planet, Mum.’
‘You know multiple Todds?’
‘I do. Well, two… Todd at school is actually quite nice, though. So I guess some of them are OK. You didn’t think my stinky brother was calling me, did you?’
‘No,’ Wendy says. ‘I s’pose not.’ Wendy has found out something new today, something she didn’t know. Her daughter has learned how to lie. And she’s really rather good at it.
They drive to nearby Gourdon and wander through pretty village streets peering in souvenir shops full of glassware. They stop briefly for pancakes in a creperie and then continue to the far end of the village where the cliff the village is built on drops to coastal plains below.
‘Wow,’ Fiona says. ‘There’s a view.’
‘Yes. And look, that’s the airport,’ Wendy says, pointing out to sea where the reclaimed land of the runways juts out.
‘Nah,’ Fiona says. ‘Don’t be daft. Nice airport was way further than that.’
Wendy shakes her head in surprise. ‘It’s not a guess, sweetheart,’ she says. ‘I’m telling you that’s where I picked you up from yesterday. That’s the runway, right there.’
‘OK,’ Fiona says. ‘If you say so, Mum.’ Annoyingly, Wendy can tell from that ‘Mum’ tagged on at the end that her daughter doesn’t believe her. But she decides it’s of little importance.
