“I was kind of hoping to get out of it.” The line went quiet at the other end. “Dad?” There was a muffled sob. Dad was crying. I think Dad is having a nervous breakdown. Mind you, if I’d been married to Mum for thirty-nine years I’d have had a nervous breakdown, even without her running off with a Portuguese tour operator. “What’s wrong, Dad?” “Oh, it’s just . . . Sorry. It’s just . . . I was hoping to get out of it too.”
