The door flew open and dad stormed in – he had lost badly at golf and had had a row with the club pro. Just what we didn’t want. Dad in a bad mood.
Mum whispered to me that probably now was not the best of times to say anything. I agreed and we sat down for tea. Dad moaned all the time during the meal about golf. Golf, golf, golf.
“And there was this new guy there,” he said. “He works in my department and was off seven. We’ll have to recruit him to play for the department in the city matches. Apparently his son is going out with some smart chick from this neighbourhood.”
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