Me-Before-You-by-Jojo-Moyes

In our street ‘posh’ could mean anyone who hadn’t got a family member in
possession of an ASBO.
‘I suppose so.’
‘Hope you’ve practised your curtsy.’ Dad grinned.
‘Did you actually meet him?’ Treena leant across to stop Thomas elbowing his
juice on to the floor. ‘The crippled man? What was he like?’
‘I meet him tomorrow.’
‘Weird, though. You’ll be spending all day every day with him. Nine hours.
You’ll see him more than you see Patrick.’
‘That’s not hard,’ I said.
Patrick, across the table, pretended he couldn’t hear me.
‘Still, you won’t have to worry about the old sexual harassment, eh?’ Dad
said.
‘Bernard!’ said my mother, sharply.
‘I’m only saying what everyone’s thinking. Probably the best boss you could
find for your girlfriend, eh, Patrick?’
Across the table, Patrick smiled. He was busy refusing potatoes, despite
Mum’s best efforts. He was having a non-carb month, ready for a marathon in
early March.
‘You know, I was thinking, will you have to learn sign language? I mean, if he
can’t communicate, how will you know what he wants?’
‘She didn’t say he couldn’t talk, Mum.’ I couldn’t actually remember what
Mrs Traynor had said. I was still vaguely in shock at actually having been given
a job.
‘Maybe he talks through one of those devices. Like that scientist bloke. The
one on The Simpsons.’
‘Bugger,’ said Thomas.
‘Nope,’ said Bernard.
‘Stephen Hawking,’ said Patrick.
‘That’s you, that is,’ Mum said, looking accusingly from Thomas to Dad. She
could cut steak with that look. ‘Teaching him bad language.’
‘It is not. I don’t know where he’s getting it from.’
‘Bugger,’ said Thomas, looking directly at his grandfather.