They sit and watch the TV in the light of the summer evening, in the room full of family photographs and to his embarrassment Dexter finds that he is crying once again, very quietly. Discreetly, he puts his hand to his eyes, but his father can hear the catching of his breath and glances over. ‘Everything alright there?’ ‘Sorry,’ says Dexter. ‘Not my cooking, is it?’ Dexter laughs and sniffs. ‘Still a bit drunk, I think.’ ‘It’s alright,’ says his father, turning back to the TV. ‘Silent Witness is on at nine.’
oh father i love you...
