The door slams shut. It causes the windows to shudder in their frames. In the hallway, I hear him dump his briefcase onto the table by the front door; it's a dull thud of the leather against wood.
"Hello, Son." He says as he enters the room. He comes over, picks the remote up from the cushion next to me and flicks through the channels.
I sigh. "I was watching that, Dad."
"Huh? That rubbish. No, you should be watching something more stimulating, like BBC Parliament. You never know if someone's going to propose a new law." He takes the remote with him through to his office, leaving me to watch lonely politicians sit and cough every so often. How riveting.
The bell rings through under Dad's office door, it rings five times before Dad finally picks it up. Someone in the Commons' coughs, I take that as an indication to leave. A wave of curiosity overcomes me, I creep over to the office door and my press my ear lightly against it.
"No no no - don't you contradict me! Listen here - no, don't interrupt me - I don't care what she says, that is not mine." I hear his chair creek as he stands and paces around the room, coming dangerously close to the door. My lungs stop, yet my heart thumps loudly in my ears. "Don't condescend me, Morgan. You have no idea just what you are on about. Wha- What do you mean? No! No no no!" He walks away from the door; my burning lungs finally gasp air.
Not daring to listen any longer, I creep backwards and rush out of the room, up the stairs and into my room. The door slams behind me; I pause before leaping onto my bed. Life here has been tense since Kerry got pregnant. Dad's suddenly become this almighty figure to be reckoned with, keeping a closer eye on Mum and Eva. It's funny, he doesn't seem to even realise that I notice. Or care.