Jason nods politely again and Dennis ambles off, forgetting even to pretend to say good-bye to Ron. Father and son, well used to these interruptions, resume their conversation with Joyce.
“Yeah, it’s calledFamous Family Trees,” says Jason. “They’ve researched the family history, and they want to take me round various places, tell me a bit about, you know, family history. Great-Granny’s a prostitute and all that.”
“I ain’t seen it,” says Ron. “What is it, BBC?”
“It’s ITV; it’s really very good, Ron,” says Joyce. “I saw one recently—did you see it, Jason, with the actor? He’s the doctor fromHolby City, but I’ve also seen him in aPoirot.”
“I didn’t see it, Joyce,” says Jason.
“It was very interesting. His grandfather, it turns out, had murdered his lover. A gay lover as well. His face was a picture. Oh, you should do it, Jason.” Joyce claps. “Imagine if Ron had a gay granddad. I’d enjoy that.”
Jason nods. “They’d want to talk to you too, Dad. On camera. They asked if you’d be up for it, and I told them good luck shutting you up.”
Ron laughs. “But are you really doing thatCelebrity Ice Dancething as well?”
“I thought it might be fun.”
“Oh, I agree,” says Joyce, finishing her beer and reaching for another.
“You’re doing a lot at the moment, son,” says Ron. “Joyce says she saw you onMasterChef.”
Jason shrugs. “You’re right, Dad. I should go back to boxing.”
“I can’t believe you’d never made a macaroon before, Jason,” says Joyce.
Ron knocks back some of his beer, then motions over to his left with the bottle.
“Over by the BMW, Jase, don’t look now. That’s Ventham, the one I was telling you about. I ran rings around him, didn’t I, Joyce?”
“He didn’t know if he was coming or going, Ron,” agrees Joyce.
Jason leans back and stretches, a casual look to his left as he does so. Joyce moves her chair to get a better view.
“Yeah, nice and subtle, Joyce,” says Ron. “That’s Curran with him, Jase, the builder. You ever come across him in town?”
“Once or twice,” says Jason.
Ron looks over again. The conversation between the men looks tense. Talking fast and low, hands aggressive and defensive, but contained.
“They having a little barney, you think?” he asks.
Jason sips his beer and scans across to the car park again, taking the men in.
“They’re like a couple out on a date, pretending they’re not having an argument,” says Joyce. “In a Pizza Express.”
“You’ve nailed it there, Joyce,” agrees Jason, turning back to his dad and finishing his beer.
“Game of snooker this afternoon, son?” says Ron. “Or are you shooting off?”
“Love to, Dad, but I’ve got a little errand.”
“Anything I can help with?”
Jason shakes his head. “Boring one, won’t take long.” He stands and stretches. “You haven’t had any journalists ringing you up today, have you?”
“Should I have?” asks Ron. “Something up?”
“Nah, you know journalists. But no calls, no mail or anything?”
