“How’s your mum?” I asked, and he took a moment to answer. “Alive.” “Alive and as well as possible, or alive and not doing so well?” “Alive and not doing so well.” He paused. “She hasn’t stopped harping on about you all week by the way. She thinks you’re a divine little thing.” “I think she’s pretty damn awesome too.” “I gathered,” he said. “Two of you eternal optimists bouncing up against the eternal pessimist at every opportunity.”
