37. The Old Ball & Chain

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"Coming," I call out, my voice sounding completely unlike me, and I attempt to slowly trudge down the stairs. I figure the slower I am in moving, the longer I have before I face an inevitably awkward, and painfully uncomfortable reception from my family.

How am I going to talk my way out of this one?

I continue to trod along down the stairs and am greeted by my family - minus Marnie, waiting at the bottom of the staircase.

"Morning dear," my mother greets, and I approach my parents and give each of them a hug.

"Oh, hello Harry," my mother welcomes, clearly surprised by Harry's presence as he comes into view.

I guess she didn't see his car after all.

"Morning Charlotte," he greets, kissing her on the cheek, "How are you Ben?" he adds, reaching out to shake my father's hand. My dad seems kind of speechless and I'm sure it's out of embarrassment of not knowing who Harry was when they first met.

"Er, hello Harry," he manages. "Nice to uh, see you again," he adds, shaking his hand.

"So why are you back so early?" I blurt, and realise it may have come off as rude. "I mean, I thought you were coming back at noon, that's all," I shrug.

"One of the other teams forfeited, so the match was cancelled," she answers, eyeing me suspiciously.

"So what are you two up to?" my mother asks, quizzical. I see her glance towards the clock, and I just know her mind is working at a million miles an hour, just putting the pieces together. She can see that it's still quite early in the morning, and most likely worked out that he's stayed the night. Knowing how good she is, she could probably even tell what we watched on TV last night too.

What is it with mum's and knowing absolutely everything?

"Well, I...I," I stutter.

Please, oh please let me fall into a massive hole where I can avoid my mother's interrogation.

"I hope you don't mind, but I was invited over for dinner – beautiful lasagne by the way. I was intending to leave, but there were a few paparazzi outside, and after thinking about it, I didn't think it was safe for Ava to be on her own in the house," Harry answered so casually. I'm actually almost a little impressed at his ability to sound so natural, and simultaneously able to flatter my mother's cooking in the process.

"Yes, you did the right thing. Where's Marnie by the way?" she asks, craning her neck to see if she's watching TV in the adjoining room.

I issue a huge sigh of relief when she accepts Harry's explanation as the truth, and this time I speak up.

"Allison's," I blurt. "She stayed at Allison's for the night."

My mother turns to face my father, and I can tell she's done with me for questions. For now.

"Darl, can you message Marnie soon and see when she needs to be picked up?"

"Will do. Oh - and Harry," he directs, now walking over to Harry. "Sorry about dinner the other night. I uh... knew you were in the group Our Direction, but I thought you might want to... that you might want to expand your audience," he explains quite unconvincingly, and I can tell he's pretty pleased with himself. I can't help but laugh at his feeble attempts to cover up his horrifically mortifying first exchange with Harry, and I stifle it with a cough. I can't help but love my father even more so for his endearing naivety.

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