Chapter 2

Thursday came around quicker than expected; before Cutter knew it, he was sitting in the passengers seat being driven by Jenny to her parents house. She had scrutinized him before they had left his house; at one point forcing him to remove his suit so that she could re-iron it. He had actually asked her if she was joking at first, as she had not so much as thrown some of his clothes in the wash before - she just wasn't that type of woman, as Helen hadn't been either. But the look on her face had informed him that she clearly was not messing around. So obediently, he had stripped, handed over his clothes and stood in his kitchen almost starkers waiting for her to finish. Apparently, Jenny's parents were perfectionists and expected everyone around them to be up to the same standard.

So that's were she gets it from, Cutter though to himself in amusement as he watched Jenny feverishly pressing his pants; her tongue in between her teeth in concentration.

He valued his life too much to actually say this to her though. He had learned the hard way not to so much as joke with Jenny when she was stressed about something, and if he did so it was at his own risk. He supposed that this was what it was like dating someone who was as passionate and as highly-strung as she was.

She, herself, looked beautiful. She had took hours to get ready; continually doing her makeup, taking it off, and reapplying it in a slightly different manner. She had tried on virtually every dress she owned (which took a while), finally deciding on a elegant black dress. Her hair was curled in soft ringlets that frames her face wonderfully.

She had handed back his suit and marked him as passable, and so they had began the long one hour drive. Jenny was unusually quiet; usually Cutter couldn't get a word in edgeways. As he looked around at her, he observed that her face was set and stony; her forehead creased with slight worry lines. Her hands were clamped so tightly around the wheel that her knuckles had turned bright red, which contrasted greatly with her pale complection.

"You alright?" Cutter asked quietly, braking the silence for the first time.

"I'm fine," she stated coldly, before her expression softened, and she looked around at him, adding, "I'm sorry, I'm just absolutely dreading this."

"You look nervous," Cutter pointed out quietly; her obvious nerves were rather unsettling.

"Do I?" she asked in a worried voice. "I'm sorry, I just don't know what I've got you into here."

"Surely their not that bad?"

Jenny snorted in way of a reply, but didn't qualify his question with a real reply.

"What's going on between you and you mum?" Cutter asked softly, not wanting to pry, but curious all the same.

"It's complicated," Jenny replied, not looking around. "We just don't get on . . . never have, even when I was little."

"And your dad?"

"He's . . ." Jenny began thoughtfully. "He's not so bad. He's a good man, but when I was younger, he never really took an interest. He just went to work, came home, read the paper, and went to bed. Whenever I had a problem, he'd just hand me a credit card."

Cutter nodded, not quite knowing what to say. His upbringing couldn't have been more different to Jenny's. His mum had been a kindly house-wife and his dad a cheerful postman; perhaps they weren't rich or glamorous, but he had had a happy childhood; the opposite, it seems, that Jenny had.

They lapsed back into silence again for a while. Cutter had to admit that he was petrified; it was obviously important to Jenny that he made a good impression, but the trouble was that he had never really interacted with middle-class people before; he didn't really know how to behave. Jenny was middle-class of course, but she was different. Under the posh school mistress voice (that was a massive turn-on in it's own right), she was not a snob at all; merely lady-like. However, considering the sound of her voice over the answering machine, this was clearly not the case for her mother.

"What . . . what do I even say?" Cutter asked, trying not to give his nerves away.

But when Jenny glanced at him, it was with a rather knowing smile.

"Just stay away from 'Hi, I'm the man who's sleeping with your daughter' -"

"Damn, that was going to be my opening," Cutter teased, but upon catching her horrified look he added, "I'm joking!"

She reached over and slapped him playfully on the arm.

"Don't joke! This is serious!" she said with a reluctant smile.

"Look," he said, stroking her arm. "I love you, and you're parents are going to see that, and that's all that matters right?"

Jenny laughed, turning her eyes back to the road.

"You just wait."

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