Mum appeared with a glass in each hand.
“You look like you’re preparing to go for an interview.” she grinned, passing me my spritzer.
I took it, bashfully smiled, and sat
. “So, Miss Jones…
what interests you about the role you’ve applied for?” Mum said in her official voice.
I played along.
“Meeting people, facing new challenges and…”
I couldn’t think, so gave up trying.
“The dress code?” my mother suggested as she cast her eyes over my fitted black pencil skirt,
slender hairless calves and high-heeled court shoes.
I just grinned and took a sip of my wine.
I say wine,
it’s a spritzer and a weak one at that.
“I was lying about meeting people,” I said.
“I don’t think I’d live it down if any of my friends knew about this.”
“Well, they needn’t know,” Mum replied.