CARON
‘So what’s wrong with her?’
Caron shuffled awkwardly, doing everything she could to avoid answering her son’s question. She straightened the tablecloth, then rotated the whiskey decanter on the sideboard until the engraving faced dead-centre. ‘I didn’t say there was anything wrong with her, Matthew, it’s just that…’
‘Just what?’
‘Well she’s older than you for a start.’
‘So? You’re older than dad.’
‘By less than a year.’
‘And Ronnie’s only just over a year older than me.’
‘Yes, but the gap’s larger when you’re younger.’
‘Now you’re just talking rubbish. Dad put you up to this, didn’t he?’
She took a deep breath. ‘Veronica’s just not the kind of girl we expected you to bring home, that’s all.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Well, she’s got…’
‘She’s got what?’ Matthew dem
