“But he never leaves his room, other than for meals and to go to school, it’s just not healthy. He’s a growing boy, he needs to get outside, run about, get muddy with other boys.”
“Does he look unhealthy to you?”
“Well, no, but…”
“Have you ever actually been into his room?”
“Certainly not, I respect people’s privacy.”
Well that was one good thing.
Patrice may not always see eye-to-eye with her mother-in-law, but she admired the woman’s bone-deep integrity. Maybe it was time.
Liam had already said he was happy for his grandmother to visit his room. She’d raise the subject over lunch.
She waited until they were finishing, enough time to make sure Liam wasn’t in grumpy teenage grunt mode, then said. “It might be nice if you could show Grandma the work you’ve done on your room after we’ve finished here.”
Liam nodded. “Sure, it’s a good time.”
Georgia cleared her throat, a little flushed, Patrice thought with pleasure. “Only if it’s not an imposition.”
“It’s all good. Are you coming too, Mum?”
“It might be best, in case your poor Grandma is overwhelmed by the mess.”
Liam chuckled. “Yeah, the mess. There’s a lot of that.”
Georgia’s expression said she knew she was missing something but had no idea how to pry politely. She’d find out soon enough.
A few minutes later, Liam opened the door to his room and ushered his grandmother through. “Welcome to the Portal.”
Georgia’s face, as she stepped out of an upstairs corridor in a terrace house in South Wimbledon, and into the courtyard of an honest-to-goodness fantasy world castle, was something to remember. Patrice had probably looked much the same the first time Liam showed her.
She wondered if it was the impossibility of the physics, or the equal impossibility of the pony-sized dragon greeting Liam like an oversized puppy. She cupped a hand under Georgia’s elbow and said. “The housekeeper makes very good tea, or something stronger, if you feel the need.”
The DNA of Stories 