‘Have you been here before?’ his mother asked.
‘Of course,’ Quinn said. ‘There’s only so much choice.’
‘Right you are,’ Claire agreed. She whispered, making Quinn lean towards her to make sure he could hear her over the din of the diners and the sultry music. ‘I came here on my first date with your father.’
Quinn realised with shame that he’d never asked how his parents met.
‘He knew the owner at the time. Said he had to show me the place.’ Claire smiled. ‘I found out later that his friend owed him a favour, so the meal was free.’
She laughed, making Quinn smile.
‘Did that annoy you?’
‘No, it made me laugh,’ Claire said. ‘And it made sense why he was so insistent on paying the bill. We hadsomuch food and drink, I felt like Ihadto pay for something.’
‘And nothing to do with hating sexist tropes?’
‘Of course not.’
The server came back with their drinks, placing them on the wooden table in front of them. Quinn reached for his.
‘You look tired, Quinn.’
‘I am.’
‘Why?’
‘I can’t sleep. I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.’
‘Oh, baby.’
His mother looked apologetic, touching his hand. It was a kind gesture, but Quinn couldn’t help the annoyance that rose inside him. His mother had let these worries run amok. She hadn’t said a word to Harold, and that hurt him. It was like choosing sides, war camps had been set up, and his mother wasn’t there fighting for him. She was Switzerland.
‘What did you want to talk about, Mum?’ Quinn moved his hand away. If the move slighted Claire, she didn’t show it.
‘What’s going on,’ Claire said. ‘Harold… He’s upset.’
‘Not this again. I can’t have you defending him to me.’
‘I know. And I’m not going to,’ Claire answered. ‘I donated to your fundraiser.’
Quinn swallowed his drink. He placed his mug back on the table with a force he didn’t mean, almost spilling some.
‘You donated?’
‘Yes. I know what this shop means to you.’
‘You haven’t shown that.’
‘No, I know.’ Claire took the criticism. ‘But Quinn, I am in such a tough place at the moment. Caught between two people I love.’
‘Yeah, your son and husband. Hm, must be a hard choice.’
‘Don’t be like that,’ Claire shot back. She regained composure by running a hand over the table, dusting away something that wasn’t there. ‘Please, Quinn. Listen to me.’
Quinn shrugged, waiting for his mum to talk.
‘I know I haven’t been the most supportive of you,’ Claire began. ‘Because I didn’t know how much it meant to you.’
