'You really think so?'Mars humped his throbbing jaw into a grin. 'You bet,' he said. By a strange coincidence that would have had the Possibility Police round in ten minutes flat with a forged warrant had they known about it, Mrs. Derry was at that very moment removing Jason's Mars posters from the walls of his bedroom.Part of being a mother is realising that one of these days, the fledgling is going to leave the nest for good. The sensible mother realises that this is perfectly natural, and also a heaven sent opportunity to give parts of the nest their first thorough cleaning for eighteen years.She was just wiping away a tear while trying to scrape off a chunk of petrified Blue-Tack with the handle of a spoon when the doorbell rang. She muttered something, climbed down off the chair and went to see who it was.'Hello, Phyllis.'Mrs. Derry gave Jupiter that particular look that only female mortals can manage. It is a masterpiece of nonverbal communication, and says (inter alia) that you are not welcome to come into my house because of what has happened between us in the past, because you never even sent flowers or a postcard, and most of all because the kitchen floor hasn't been cleaned for a week.
