“Lilith.” Cain tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the van door. “You know, I think I’d like to meet your mother.”
I nodded fatalistically. “You’d like her. Everyone likes her. She’s sort of…WYSIWIG.”
“Whizzy what?”
“What You See Is What You Get. It’s a computer term.”
“Oh.” Cain nodded. “Nerd,” he added as an afterthought.
“Yeah, ‘fraid so. Is this the turn off?”
“Yep.” I could feel him looking at me sideways. “You found that suspiciously easily.”
“Yeah, well. I’ve got a knack for finding turn-offs. Ask any of my exes.”
As Cain laughed, we pulled up into a fairly nice-looking, ordinary street—semi-detached houses, most of them with the front gardens converted into parking places. Everyone seemed to have at least two cars, which was two more than the architect had planned for when d
