The phone was ringing when Jayden let himself into the house, and he caught it just as the answering machine light came on.
“Hello?” he said, fumbling with the front door and his jacket, almost throwing one arm out of its sleeve clumsily. The cat regarded him sceptically from the sofa.
“Hello, darling!”
“Mum!”
“Of course, darling,” Mum said cheerfully. “How are you both?”
There was a question. “Um, we’re, you know, us.”
“Mm,” Mum said. “Are you free on Saturday afternoon? There’s some combat-ship…”
“Battleship, Mum.”
“Oh, whatever,” she said. “There’s some big boat owned by the Royal Navy that’s parked up…”
“Moored.”
“Parked up—stop arguing with me, you might be twenty-three but I’m still your mother—in Portsmouth that’s letting the public have a poke about, and your father’s dec
