We raced down the road and knocked on the door, but there was no need, he was half hanging out of the upstairs window grinning. "Come down here at once!" I shouted at him, just as Gabriel's mum opened the door (I suspect she thought "fishwife"). Then I had to explain to her what was going on whilst explaining to him that he should always let me know where he's going. But, anyway, all was well.
I hadn't talked to Gabriel's mum before and she asked me in while we exchanged phone numbers, in case it happened again. Her kitchen was chaotic and she explained how she was cooking dinner for her book group that evening. "That's funny" I said" I have book group at my house tonight"
"What are you cooking?" She asked politely
"Crisps" I replied (we only require wine usually, no need for food!)
"One of my group writes food articles for the Times" She boasted "So I always get a little stressed about cooking for them"
I smiled politely, thinking that wine and crisps were quite easy to muster on a school night.
"What book are you reading?" She enquired. I told her the name and the author of our ordinary 'Top 10 Best Seller List' read and then returned the question. I wish I hadn't asked! I can't remember the title now, or the french author, but it was way more high brow than ours.
Later that evening, when my lot were chattering away (mostly not about books!), I mentioned the other book group meeting up the road. I wondered how in depth their book review was.
"Funny that we should all be doing the same thing on the same evening" I said
"Oh, I saw someone pop in there when I arrived" Someone else chirped in "She had far to much make up on to come to this book club!"
Maybe we're not all quite so united after all!