It's Good To Talk&;#063;

It's Good To Talk?

The letterbox clattered in Gemma's head with a resonance that made
alarm clocks superfluous. Instantly awake, she silently draped her
dressing gown around her, inched out of the bedroom door with catlike
stealth - and then recoiled as the BT logo winked malevolently down the
hallway at her. So it was here at last! Gemma had been intercepting the
mail for weeks, awaiting with terror this bill, which would betray to
her parents the true cost of her romance with Scott.

He lived two-hundred miles away - she missed him! But Dad would be
livid to learn their most recent conversation had spanned three
hours.

Gemma zipped her thumb along the envelope flap, and unfolded the
itemised invoice, wincing and squinting at its dizzying numerals. ?240!
Eight calls to Manchester were listed, but - as she guessed - by far
the most recurrent number was Scott's in Carlisle.

"What's the damage then, love?"

Gemma yelped as the baleful bill was plucked from her quaking fingers.
Her mother, Sue, had slithered up to her with such noiseless care, such
maternal knowing. Why - she might easily have been lingering behind her
own bedroom door, anticipating this post!

With denial or defence futile, Gemma judged penitence her wisest
approach. "Mum! Oh Mum, I'm so sorry! I'll pay you back! I'll get a
Saturday job!"

"No need, no need."

"Pardon?"

"I know how easy it is to get carried away when you're in love."

"You're not furious?"

"I'll let it go just this once, Gemma. But perhaps in future you should
try writing to Scott."

"Writing! Yes - great idea, Mum! You won't tell Dad about this, will
you?"

"No! No, sweetheart. Let's say no more about this, eh? Now what can I
get you for breakfast?"

Sue secreted the mail in her dressing gown pocket and permitted herself
a mirthless grin. Oh, how it paid to be an understanding mother! She
was in no position to chastise her lovelorn daughter in any event. Not
when she had been telephoning Manchester for similar reasons
herself...!