Cathal played the piano and Olli's mummy loved that.
She turned to me, smiled and said "He's a very good boy. I can hardly believe that he's a friend of yours."
I said "Me? Not your son's?"
Olli again burst into laughter.
Listening to the distant Erik Satie or something, Olli and I did maths workbooks with pan-roasted sausages in our hands. After Cathal got released, we rushed to the nearest swimming-pool.