Tom Parker tugged his tie down an inch and dashed across the office car-park. It had been an awful day at the office. His head was mashed, a throbbing pain nagged at his temples. It wasn’t the perfect day to go and meet his girlfriend’s parents for the first time, but what could he do? When they had tried to find a weekend that both Tom and Louise, and her parents were free, it had just been impossible. So, it had been agreed, Tom would go round one night during the week. Tuesday night had suited Louise’s parents as her mother had her Judo class on Wednesday and her father taught ukulele on Thursdays. But, this particular Tuesday had been horrific at work. Tom couldn’t recall a day like it. Everything that could have gone wrong, had gone wrong, and his management were queuing up to point the finger, blaming him personally for everything from a driver phoning in sick to the customs restrictions caused by Brexit.

As he climbed in the car, he sighed, thankful that the day was over. He just had to get this evening out of the way now. He turned the radio to a smooth station, and tried to let the soothing soul music calm him. He headed up a slip road and onto the motorway. The traffic slowed to almost a standstill. The stretch of motorway ahead was lined with red brake-lights as far as he could see. The vehicles were not moving. Come on, he said, not today, I really don’t need this. He managed to manoeuvre into the right lane before crawling to a complete stop. He slumped in the driver’s seat, leaning his head against the cool of the glass window.

The journey to Bolton should have taken around half an hour, but, an hour later, he was only just pulling off the motorway. He wound his way along the busy A roads, winding his way towards the small town. It was such an annoying journey. There was so much traffic, he didn’t feel he’d ever reach his destination. He approached a mini roundabout. He pulled out onto the roundabout, the moment he set off, he realised he was in the wrong. He didn’t have right of way. He could never get the hang of these mini roundabouts. He cut up the car already on the roundabout. Tom waved a hand in apology. The car behind gave a long harsh blast of the horn. Tom could see the driver of the silver BMW making rude gestures, before flashing his headlights in outrage. That was it. Tom had had enough.

He slammed his foot on the brake, screeching to a complete stop in the middle of the roundabout. He wound his window down, waving his hands in a come on, then gesture. He felt his cheeks burning with anger and outrage.

‘What are you gonna do now, big man?’ Tom yelled.

The driver of the BMW waved a hand, motioning for Tom to get out of the way. Tom shook his head in disgust, before continuing. The BMW turned right, where Tom went straight on. He grumbled and complained aloud as he drove along. Who did people think they were? He hadn’t meant to cut the driver up. He had apologised, but, no, the BMW driver had blasted his horn. Maybe he’d think twice before he did that again. Unbelievable. As he neared his destination, the chequered flag on his sat-nav now only inches away, he tried to calm down and snap out of his bad mood. He told himself that he was going to have a nice evening, he would have a pleasant time with Louise’s parents.

He parked up at the bottom of the street and walked along the leafy cul-de-sac. At the bottom of the drive, he took a deep breath. We’ll have a good night, Tom, he told himself. He knocked gently on the door. After a moment, he heard voices and Louise opened the door, smiling. This was it, you only met your partner’s parents for the first time once. It was important to create the right impression. He felt like he was walking a tightrope. He wanted to come over as chatty and talkative, but not a complete gas-bag. He had a few funny one-liners and stories to tell, to make him seem witty and funny, but he didn’t want to be seen as a clown. He nodded to himself, you can do this, and followed Louise inside.

Her parents, Tony and Valerie, were standing by the fireplace, they approached him warmly as he entered. Tony shook him firmly by the hand, pleased to meet you, old chap. As Valerie leaned and pecked him on the cheek, Tom got a strong waft of perfume.

‘You got here okay, then?’ asked Louise.

‘Yes, finally, traffic was awful, though.’

Tony asked if he’d like a drink. Tom was about to answer when he heard a car pull up on the drive outside, beeping its horn. Tom glanced out the bay window. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was the car from before, the silver BMW. This was like something from a thriller movie. Why on earth had the guy followed him here, arriving, blasting his horn?

‘I don’t believe this.’ Tom said.

He rushed out the front door, to face the driver climbing out of the car. When he saw Tom charging towards him, the guy stopped and stared.

Louise and her parents appeared in the doorway. Everything seemed to boil over in that moment. This was just the final straw. He could only take so much. His hands trembled in shock and anger.

‘How dare you follow me? You’re asking for a smack in the mouth.’ Tom shouted.

Louise called his name, rushing between the two men.

‘Tom, this is David, my brother.’

‘Sorry, I’m late.’ David said. ‘The traffic was so bad, and then I had to go for petrol.’

By Chris Platt

From: United Kingdom