There wasn’t a lot to say other than “I suppose..?” and quickly scan the neighbours’ windows to see if they were open, just in case they are even worse eavesdroppers than I am. (you know you have a problem when you hear your kids saying “why are you telling me to shush?” way too frequently.)
I know, worrying about what the neighbours think is a very middle aged response but I can’t help it. (You think that’s bad? Whenever the doorbell rings I tear off my apron, kick my slippers under the couch, beseech the children to act normal and open the door with a nonchalant “relaxed smile” on my face.)
I was a little bit worried though. (No. Not about Victoria.) and as he cycled off in a reassuringly vigorous, masculine way, made a mental note to hide the Grazia from now on.