The ride to Tom"s parents" house took a little over fifteen minutes. All the while, as the vehicle sped on its way, Tom felt distant and detached. He mulled over the circumstances of his relationship and the possible consequences as if he was analysing someone else"s life, preparing to write their story. Tom"s parents lived in a suburban villa in a tree-lined avenue on the far side of town. He settled the cab fare –his driving restriction was going to prove expensive. He lifted his case, bag and laptop and struggled to keep them in balance as he staggered up the driveway.
He hardly had time to press the bell before the solid timber door sprung open and his mother stepped forward, enveloping him in a hug.
She stood back, examining him for damage and raised her hand to touch his face. “Oh
