The Road Back by Di Morrissey

diplomatically.
    â€˜I think your mother would agree with that. Frankly, I always felt she didn’t approve of me,’ said Chris.
    â€˜Oh, no. She’s like that with everybody. I don’t think anyone’s ever good enough in her eyes.’
    Chris paused. He didn’t want to be too critical of Jill’s mother. ‘Maybe we shouldn’t talk about her behind her back – or your mother’s.’
    â€˜Don’t worry, Dad, Mum knows how I feel. I used to talk to her about everything. You know, girl talk?’ She looked at him. ‘I suppose it’s different with fathers.’
    â€˜Maybe we’ll have to learn to get along on a different level.’
    â€˜Dad, you’re fun, I can joke and tease with you. You’re interesting, we talk about grown-up things. You know, your work and politics and everything.’
    Chris smiled. ‘I’m starting to learn about your world, Megan, but it’s still a bit of a mystery to me. Friends and brand names seem to be very important to you.’
    â€˜It’s a popularity thing,’ she explained, seriously. ‘The kids at school are pretty harsh if you don’t wear the brands they wear. I think that boys my age are probably even more obsessed than girls. They are all really judgemental. Bragging rights are a massive thing. I guess I play that game, too. I just got this new orange leather bag with a chain handle that I saved really hard for. It cost more than two hundred dollars and I made sure it was all over Tumblr, Snapchat, Instagram and Facebook. Everyone knew.’
    Chris tried to keep a straight face. ‘That’s great for you, honey. But what about those kids whose parents aren’t as well off? Does that put them on the outer?’
    â€˜Must be hard,’ Megan said. She shrugged. ‘Sometimes they try to fake it. The worst thing to do is wear a fake. You can always tell.’
    Silence fell between them as they watched the scenery unfolding as the car approached the little township. Slightly disturbed by the turn their conversation had taken, Chris wondered to himself how a sweet girl like Megan could be so mercenary and status-conscious. But obviously all her friends were too, and peer pressure was a force to be reckoned with.
    â€˜Know where we are?’ he asked as they crossed a wooden bridge spanning a fast-flowing river.
    â€˜Yes! There’s the river and the park. I can’t wait to get to the skate park place under the trees,’ said Megan, happily. ‘And we’re coming up to that old butter factory that’s got some pretty cool shops, like the one with those fossils. And there’s the yellow shed building. There are some terrific things in there, too. Lots of really gorgeous crystals. I could buy my Christmas presents there.’
    â€˜And here we are, at last,’ said Chris as they drove along the main street of Neverend.
    â€˜Wow, there are quite a few new places,’ Megan exclaimed. ‘Hey, there’s a new vintage shop. Bet I can find something great in there. And more coffee shops. Can we come down here this afternoon?’
    Chris grinned at her enthusiasm. ‘Let’s see what Bunny has planned. Personally, I’d like to put my feet up with a cold beer.’
    Susan Baxter must have heard the car turning into the narrow gravel driveway beside the house, for she was waiting for them on the front verandah, standing beside her pots of hanging orchids. As they drove up to the house, Chris appreciated again the beautiful renovation that had seen original features like the wooden fretwork, the leadlight windows and the wide skirting boards all retained and restored. The wonderful pressed-metal ceilings had been meticulously repainted. Walls had been knocked out to provide four good-sized bedrooms, one with an ensuite and a walk-in robe. On the other side of the back patio, a shed had been converted into a guest cottage with the old