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“You’re…The Reuben,” she said, eyeing him up and down.

“Not really. Just Reuben,” he replied, shuffling around, a grin on his face.

“And you live here.”

I just stood there like a lemon.

“So do you.”

Okay.

“And…”

“You want a photo? For Instagram?” My son was a twat. But Constance just laughed.

“Dude, I don’t have any social media. So yesterday and weird now. I’m on WhatsApp, that’s it.”

“That’s…” My son smiled. “Cool. Refreshing. I’m on all of it, but then I am old.”

“Not old.” She smiled sweetly.

Oh dear. Get me out of here.

“So…” My son smarmed. “You’re my new lil sis then?”

What?

It took Constance a few seconds to compose herself.

“Lil…what?”

“The Constance. You’re now part of the family?”

“The Constance?” she stated in disbelief.

“It’s a joke, dude.” He reached out and bumped his fist gently onto her shoulder. “My dad has the hots for your dad. It’s cool. Going well.”

“I noticed,” she said flatly. “My dad is currently on a Teams call with both my brothers hiding under the table. That’s not going well.”

“Oh God,” I burst out.

“We need… Well. I’m done being the unpaid help, so I’m going out.” She flicked her hair.

“Do you want a lift?Where are you going?” I was a father, through and through, and offering young Constance a lift was inappropriate. I needed permission from at least one of her parents. But still.

“I can take the Tube.”

“Yeah, and that—”

“It’s only up to Kilburn Park.”

“I can run you up there,” my son offered. “Dad’s car is a bit…miffy.”

“Miffy?” Constance laughed. “What does that even mean?”

“Something my daughter says. I’ll bring the kids and take them out for a bit.”

“You don’t have to,” Constance said with zero conviction, clearly enthralled by my son and his ways.