“You must be Joshua. I’m Michael’s mum, Ann. Please come in and I’ll call Michael for you.”
“Thank you, Mrs Armstrong, nice to meet you,” I replied, going into the entrance hall.
“Michael! Joshua’s here for you!” shouted Mrs Armstrong.
Michael came running down the stairs to the entrance hall and hugged me—in front of his mother! I wasn’t sure how to respond as I thought she might be embarrassed or offended on seeing us embrace like that, but she did not react at all. She merely left us and went back to doing whatever.
“Come and meet my dad,” said Michael. “He’s just getting ready to go off to the wedding.”
We ran upstairs and Michael led the way to his parents’ bedroom and walked in. I hesitated.
“Come in, Josh. Dad, this is my friend, Joshua.”
Mr Armstrong was standing in his unde
