around the room as though he'd never seen it before.

After the normal questions about teachers Johnnyhadn't had since the first year, his father stared atnothing much for a while and then said, 'Things havebeen a bit tricky lately. I expect you've noticed.'

'No.'

'It's been a bit tricky at work. Not a good time to~start a new business.'

'Yes.'

'Everything all right?'

'Yes.'

'Nothing you want to talk about?'

'No. I don't think so.'

His father looked around the room again. Then hesaid, 'Remember last year, when we all went down toFalmouth for the week?'

'Yes.'

'You enjoyed that, didn't you?'

He'd got sunburnt and twisted his ankle on somerocks and he had to get up at 8.30 every morning, eventhough it was supposed to be a holiday. And the onlyTV in the hotel was in front of some old woman whonever let go of the remote-control.

'Yes.'

'We ought to go again.'

His father was staring at him.

'Yes,' said Johnny. 'That would be nice.'

'How're you getting on with Space Invaders?''Sorry?''Space Invaders. On the computer.'Johnny turned to look at the blank screen.'What're Space Invaders?' he said.'Isn't that what they're called any more? SpaceInvaders? You used to get them in pubs and things, oh,before you were born. Rows of spiky triangular greenaliens with six legs kept on coming down the screen andwe had to shoot them.'

Johnny gave this some thought. 'What happenedwhen you'd shot them all, then?'

'Oh, you got some more.' His father stood up. 'Iexpect it's all more complicated now, though.'

'Yes.'

'Done your homework, have you?'

'Yes.'

'What was it?'

'History. Had to write about ChristopherColumbus.'

'Hmm? You could put in that he didn't set out todiscover America. He was really looking far Asia andfound America by accident.'