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‘You shouldn’t have to ask.’
    ‘Oh. Do I know her? Is she from the college?’
    Now I really sigh. Is she from the college? It’s like he really is from a different universe (more specifically, planet college, in the clueless system). ‘No, Dad. That’s Holly Isles. The actress.’
    There’s a blank look.
    ‘Come on, Dad. Even you must know who Holly Isles is.’ I pause for a second, turn him to face me and count down her three biggest and latest films on three of my fingers.
    ‘Ah. I think I have it,’ he nods slowly, when I’m done. ‘Didn’t they film part of that last one at the college?’
    Aaaggghhh! Why can’t I have a normal father? One that lines up to see all the blockbuster films with a supersize bucket of popcorn and a giant Coke instead of taking an apple to the arthouse cinema? Yes, that’s right. An apple. To the arthouse cinema. On date night.
    ‘Don’t you remember? We saw her boarding the ship this morning.’
    Another squint.
    ‘Come on , Dad, you definitely saw her. I saw you seeing her.’ I remember his lobotomy look that matched mine all too well.
    There’s a third squint. ‘Oh! Oh, yes I do remember now. She’s very beautiful.’ And a pointed look. ‘Though I did no such thing.’ Then he looks back at Holly again and there’s a long pause in which I can practically hear hisbrain ticking over. Wait for it, wait for it …‘But how do you know her?’
    I knew it! The man may be from the clueless system, but he zaps back down to earth from time to time to keep an eye on me. I know we’ll have to get this all sorted and out of the way before we take one step further. It’s a Dad thing.
    ‘Um, I met her before. On one of the top decks.’
    The look changes from confusion to ‘What have you been up to, Nessa Joanne Mulholland?’, fast. ‘I hope you haven’t been bothering people.’
    ‘ Moi? ’ I’m all innocence. ‘Of course not. Now, come on. And do try to tone it down a bit, won’t you …’

    ‘Looking gorgeous, Nessa.’ Holly stands up and gives me a kiss first on one cheek and then on the other (how LA!) when we finally reach table three. ‘Love the outfit.’
    ‘Thanks! I love yours too.’ And I do. What I’d give to be able to wear a strapless number like that. Holly’s long black and white shimmering sequinned dress is mesmerising.
    ‘And this charming gentleman must be your father?’
    I nod and do my introductions. First to Holly, then to Marc. ‘You’ll have to come and sit next to me,’ Holly says to my dad. ‘Nessa’s told me all about your work. It sounds fascinating. And I haven’t sat beside a professor for years. Actually, I think I only ever sat in front of them, so this is a first for me.’
    ‘You went to college?’ My dad looks surprised and I surreptitiously kick him on one ankle. He is such a snob! Like I said, Dad and celebrity don’t mix. Just because Holly’s an actress, he assumes she’s stupid.
    Holly nods. ‘Microbiology was my poison. Nothing nearly as interesting as sociology, I’m afraid.’
    ‘But microbiology’s a fascinating field.’ My dad, animated now, reaches out and touches Holly’s arm. ‘Only the other day …’
    And this is where my brain switches off. Holly and Dad sit down beside each other and, amazingly, start nattering away like they’re old friends. As for me, I take a seat beside Marc, who’s chatting to the man sitting next to him … and continues chatting to him through a bread roll (I eat Dad’s as well, for something to do), salad and the entrée.
    Looks like Holly’s got a new ‘new best friend’.
    It isn’t until our main meals begin to arrive and Marc’s friend ducks off to the bathroom that he turns to me. Grudgingly. ‘I hope your lip’s okay,’ he says gruffly, not really looking at me. The waiter places my main in front of me – an extremely yummy-looking chicken breast stuffed with macadamia and coriander, sitting on some sort of mango sauce. (I could do this every