Well, from where I’m sitting you obviously can’t. You need an intervention. I’m worried about you, Oliver. It’s not good to be alone. Your father is so invested in your future, we both are.

We miss you. Your mother xx

Oliver read it twice and cursed while his heart crushed at the mention of his father. The reason for this most recent intense interest in his love life suddenly crystallized: his parents had so much to worry about – too much – that they were looking for a distraction. And why the hell not? They didn’t have much else to look forward to, so a marriage and babies and a rosy future for their son was all they could hope for.

Annoyed at himself for his surly replies, and rightfully humbled, Oliver flicked another text to his mum:

How is Dad?

A couple of moments passed, during which guilt shivered through Oliver’s gut. Then:

Oh, you know. The same. But his doctor says there’s some experimental treatment he wants to try.

That was where they’d got to, experimental treatment when everything else had failed so far.

Give him my love.

His mother was trying, he knew, to forge a better relationship between them all at this difficult time and he welcomed that, but sometimes it could be suffocating. He’d tried I’m fine on my own. He’d tried I’m not ready to settle down and none of it convinced her he was OK. But now she wanted to meet this special woman. Who didn’t exist. Who’d got bored of waiting for commitment.

He didn’t want to let his parents feel that bitter tang of disappointment, not again when they had so much to battle already, but he didn’t want his mother setting up surreptitious dates over Christmas either, inviting the very nice but not for him Arabella or Jecca or any other woman she believed would be a perfect match.

He wanted them to have something to look forward to.

What to do?

Oliver? We’re so looking forward to meeting her. Your father in particular.

So without thinking too much about the ramifications Oliver sent a text straight back:

OK. OK, Mum. I’ll bring her to the opening day.

Oh! Ollie! Love. Ollie! Finally! See, that wasn’t too hard, was it? I’m so excited. Your mother xx

He stared at the screen for a minute and let his actions sink in. Hell. He’d just lied to his mother about a non-existent girlfriend. Great stuff.

He took another gulp of whisky. He had time. Time to find a new girlfriend. Or time to think up another excuse to tell his mother on opening day.