I don't care what you say anymore, this is my life, go ahead with your own life, leave me alone.
Billy Joel

Saturday

"Harry!" He groaned and turned over in bed. "Harry, your phone is buzzing!" His mum called up the stairs. "Harry, come answer it!" He reminded himself to make more of an effort in his apartment hunt.

"You answer it!"

"I can't work out the buttons," He sighed, and reluctantly dragged himself up.

"Pass it here," He ordered, wiping sleep from his eyes.

"It's stopped ringing now," She said, handing him his phone. "Do you want a coffee?"

"Sure,"

"Can you walk Bernie for me?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Trevor's out all day, and I told him I'd do it for him, but I forgot I'd already agreed to spend the day with Sandra, so I don't really have the time." Harry cursed inwardly – his pensioner mother had a more active social life than him. "Will you?"

"This Trevor guy isn't just a casual one off date, then?"

"Harry, it's walking his dog. He's hardly asked me to marry him, dear,"

"How many dates have you had with him?" He asked, a mischievous grin on his face.

"A few,"

"When do I get to meet him?"

"Will you please just walk the dog?"

"Sure,"

"I'll leave the house key..."

"You have a spare key? How serious is this, Mother dear?" He teased. She rolled her eyes and ignored him.

"I'll write down the address. Take him out for a bit, make sure he does his business, and then give him a biscuit when you take him back – they're in the cupboard next to the cooker,"

"Will do,"

He retreated into the living room, hoping for some privacy.

"Hi, Harry," He cupped his coffee in his hand, appreciating the warmth it radiated. He hated Autumn, for the same reason he hated Spring – it was an in between time, where it was neither Winter nor Summer, two seasons which he tended to enjoy, and he was left to do nothing but wait for Winter or to reminisce about Summer. "Sorry for crashing out on you last night – more tired than I thought, I guess. As I am child-free, I wondered if maybe you wanted to do something today. We could go see a film or something. Or not, if you're busy, it's fine. You're probably still in bed, lazy git, so I'll call back later."

He looked through his phone book and pressed call. Once upon a time, he had known her number by heart, and just punched it in – but she'd got a new one.

"Hello,"

"I wasn't asleep; I was in the shower,"

"Yeah right. You never wake up before 11 on days off,"

"I'm a changed man, Nicola. I've matured,"

"I'll believe that when pigs fly," He chuckled. "So, cinema?"

"I already have a dog walking appointment,"

"Moonlighting?"

"Something like that,"

"How badly is Leo paying you?"

"You can come keep me company,"

"I'm not an outdoorsy girl,"

"I'm well aware. It will be a leisurely stroll through the Gardens," He could tell she had been looking forward to a day of absolutely no effort from the silence that followed his suggestion. "I'll even buy you coffee and cake if you behave," There was a long pause.

"Well, now I just can't refuse, can I?" She giggled. "I'll meet you by the playground,"

"The playground?"

"Princess Diana's playground," He stayed silent. "Oh come on Harry, you must know where it is,"

"I a, have no children and b, haven't lived in London for the past 8 years. I don't know where it is,"

"Use a map,"

"Can we not just meet somewhere else?"

"No, it's easy. Meet you there at one?"

"Ok," He agreed reluctantly before hanging up.

"I take it you're walking him with Nikki then?"

"Privacy Mum!" He moaned as he returned to the kitchen.

"She's only a friend!" She tried to hide the resentment in her voice. "I gave you privacy with Lilly, didn't I?"

"Only because you lived thousands of miles away,"

"Not the point,"

"What is, then? You were listening in on my conversation..."

"Which," She interrupted. "Was about walking a dog. Hardly MI6 top secret stuff, is it Harry?"

"It might have been!"

"Oh lay off it," She flicked over the page of the newspaper dramatically. "Like you're going to be having a conversation with anyone but Nikki, and like that conversation is going to be about anything 'private',"

He wished he could have called her something, anything, just to let his anger out, but, no matter how much at times she acted like the annoying sibling he never had, she was his mother, and therefore he had to be polite – no matter how excruciatingly right she was about everything.

Aren't parents just the worst? :)