“Who moved the TV remote?” her dad asked, wandering around like a man possessed. “It lives on top of the fridge. People will keep moving it.”
“You know the TV has voice-activation control,” Chloe said, pouring herself a bowl of cornflakes. “If you enabled the setting, you could justtellthe TV to turn itself on.”
“Oh no, we can’t be doing with that,” her mum said, measuring coffee into the cafetière. “Newfangled technology, more trouble than it’s worth. We don’t wantforeigngovernments listening in on our conversations.”
“It’s designed to make your life easier, Mum. And I don’t think ‘foreign governments’ want to hear you two talk about when the weather’s going to turn, or how extortionate marmalade is these days.”
Chloe shot her mum a goofy smile, but her parents remained unconvinced. A few years back, they’d been scammed out of some money online, and since then, they’d grown increasingly distrustful of technology. They’d even stopped using the sat nav because they didn’t like the car knowing their “comings and goings.”
“Drama over, here it is,” her mum said, pulling the TV remote from the bread bin. Then she sat back down with herHello!magazine. “Oh, I do feel sorry for the young Duchess of Wiltshire, don’t you? She seemssolovely, and that rotter of a fiancé has broken off their engagement again. Run off with a glamour model. Quite scandalous!”
“What was the remote doing in the bread bin?” her dad asked in confusion.
“I don’t know, darling. Getting bready? Ha ha.”
“Maybe he was feeling crumby?” her dad suggested, and the two of them burst into laughter.
Chloe sighed, resting her chin on her hand. How had these two found each other?
“Oh, now look at this,” her mum said, pushing the magazinein front of Chloe. “Ten of the world’s most eligible princes. Wouldn’t it be fun if you married the prince of Denmark? Ooh, Sheikh Mohammed of Qatar is rather dishy. He’s your age too, fluent in Arabic, English,andFrench. Very impressive. He’d probably want you to live there though, wouldn’t he?”
“Mum, I love that you think geography is the only obstacle to me marrying Sheikh Mohammed of Qatar.”
“We do have plenty of air miles we haven’t used,” said her dad, resting his hand on his wife’s shoulder and kissing her head.
Something tugged inside Chloe. She loved living with her parents, but sometimes when she saw them like this, so content in their own little universe, it only made her feel more alone.
“Let’s not useHello!magazine as a dating directory,” Chloe said, taking the magazine from her mother’s hands and closing it before turning back to her cereal.
“Okay, your anagram this morning is “marmalade,’ ” her dad said, writing it out on the Post-it note. “Too easy,” he said with a wink. “Now I need your opinion on something. New name for the band; Neville wants ‘the Richmond Bangers,’ Hamish likes ‘the Granny Smiths.’ What do you think?”
Her dad was in a band with two friends from church. They’d started out playing “Amazing Grace” and “All Things Bright and Beautiful” after the Sunday service, but recently they’d moved into pop and rock, played in a few pubs. Their name, the Richmond Church Players, didn’t quite fit the vibe now.
“You can’t be grannies when you’re all men,” Chloe’s mum said with a frown.
“It’s a play on the Smiths, but like the apples,” her dad explained.
“If you have to explain it to Mum, it’s probably not a goodname,” Chloe said. “I liked ‘Three Men and a Banjo.’ Was that not a goer?”
Her dad looked disappointed. “Neville’s given up the banjo.”
“I’ll have a think,” she promised. “Right, I have to run. Bye, love you.” Outside, Chloe squinted into the brightness of daylight. It was too warm for a woolen cape, but she was going to wear it anyway because it made her feel like Batgirl. As she walked over Richmond Road bridge, Chloe paused to watch rowers glide past swans on the river below, then she dialed Wendy’s number.
“Chloe Fairway,” Wendy said as she answered. “I thought you might call.”
“What the hell, Wendy?” Chloe snapped, but Wendy only laughed.
“You went, then? I wish I could have seen your face. I wish I could have seenmyface. It’s unbelievable, right?”
“That is an understatement.”
“Look, I can’t really talk about it, I signed my life away, as I’m sure you did too, but I’m telling you, you won’t regret it. I have never been happier. I can’t describe how Patrick has changed my life. He is literally theperfectpartner.” Wendy paused, then sighed dreamily. “Just…don’t sleep with him until you’re sure you want to commit to the lifestyle. Once you go bot, you won’t go back. I swear, it’s like being treated to a Michelin-starred meal after years of gruel.”
“Wendy, you have to be joking. I will not be having”—she lowered her voice, glancing around at the pavement—“sex with a robot.”
“Technically, an android,” Wendy said. “And trust me, it feels completely natural. Your satisfactionguaranteed.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
