As he took in Claire’s first impression of his house, he wished he’d done as he was told. But shouldn’t his dad be doing those jobs? Paul bristled silently. His dad never did anything around the house and both he and his mum knew that was never going to change. As Paul slid his key in the lock, he led Claire down the hallway. It smelled of baking. His mum hurried out to meet them.

‘Hello! You must be Claire! Are you cold? Come through, I made a crumble. What would you like to drink?’ Maureen chattered on and Paul knew she was nervous.

‘That’s okay, Mum, we’re just going to go up to my room to study,’ said Paul. But Claire interrupted him.

‘Hello, Mrs Jones. Nice to meet you. Some crumble would be lovely, thank you.’

Paul groaned inwardly, but he watched his mother scurry about the kitchen and he knew she was impressed with Claire’s manners. Good breeding, he could imagine her saying to him later after she’d left. He’d made the mistake of telling his mum that Claire lived on Cherry Drive in Castlefield.

‘What, the posh part?’ she’d said earlier.

‘Mum, for God’s sake don’t say that to her,’ replied Paul tersely.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t. Fancy, my son bringing home a posh girl.’ She smiled at him then and he could see she was happy for him.

Now, as the three of them sat round the kitchen table, Claire chatted easily with his mother and by the end of the twenty-minute conversation, even Paul felt at ease.

‘Right, Mum, we’re off to do our homework,’ he said as he finished his last mouthful. ‘Come on.’

Claire got up and began gathering the dishes and taking them to the sink.

‘Oh, that’s all right, pet, I’ll do that – you go and get started on your homework.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Jones – that was delicious,’ said Claire and Paul could see his mum instantly fall in love with her just like he had. Claire had walked ahead of him into the hallway and as he left the kitchen, his mother gave him a pointed look. He knew what it meant – a reminder to keep his bedroom door open, but he pretended he didn’t understand.