Chapter 14

      Breakfast on the Gaza Strip again. But that morning, there seemed to have been something of a ceasefire.

      Ollie was chirpy as ever, his little round glasses perched on his nose, reading a book with a dragon on the cover. Lucy was uncharacte‌ristically chatty. She’d been into town with Max and his friends the night before, giving me barely enough time to lecture her about the dangers of alcohol before she dashed off.

      There was a lot of laughter and surreptitious shuffling about on the corridor outside before I finally heard the key turn in the lock. I considered bursting out to catch them in the act, but I didn’t really want to see my daughter with her tongue down someone’s throat. It’s like world poverty – you know it’s happening, but you don’t necessarily want to witness it up close.

      She’d wisely kept herself scarce most of the day, knowing the longer she avoided me, the less angry I’d be about the pervert’s parade she’d ambushed me with. I’d spent a good half-hour packing it all up again ready for the airline people to collect, and was fairly sure a few smaller items had gone missing.

      Still, seeing her smiling and laughing at breakfast made it impossible to stay mad. In fact, it had totally thrown me – that boy must be a heck of a kisser.

      ‘So anyway,’ she said, between bites of toast, ‘turns out that Max is really cool. I know he seems total surfer boy, but he’s read all The Walking Dead graphic novels, and runs an online forum on classic horror, and he’s really into The Smiths as well.’

      ‘Are you sure he’s not just gay?’ Ollie asked, peering up from his page.

      ‘Shut the fuck up, John Lennon,’ she answered, reassuringly. Glad to see that love hadn’t quite tamed the beast.