Five

“You remind me of my dad,” I told Matt the other day. “He’s all serious and solemn when you first meet him, but actually he’s very mischievous.”

This is actually a very lovely compliment because I adore my dad.

“Hum,” Matt said, peering at me over the top of his spectacles. “That’s interesting, because only this weekend I thought how much my daughter reminds me of you.”

“Oh!” I said, pleased. “In what way?”

Matt thought about it.

“Well, she’s quite girly, like you, and … I don’t know, just the way she reacts to things and the way she thinks things through, it just reminds me of you.”

“Ahh,” I said happily.

Matt turned back to his work, but not before saying, almost as an aside,

“Bear in mind though, she is five.”

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