It was evening when Dexter woke. The whole afternoon had passed. He went to find his father in the kitchen.
‘l’m sorry, Dad,’ he said. ‘I didn't mean to sleep that long. Why didn't you wake me?’
‘lt wasn’t my job. You’re not a child any longer, Dexter,’ his father replied angrily. ‘And you were so drunk, there wasn't any point in waking you. You don’t think that your mother wanted to see you like this, do you?’
‘I’m sorry,‘ Dexter said again. He looked around the room. ‘Where did I put my car keys? I have to go now.’
‘l’ve got them and I’m going to keep them,’ his father replied. ‘You must not drive when you’re drunk, Dexter. You'll kill yourself or you’ll kill someone else, which will be worse. I'll drive you to the station now. You can get the train back to London. And you can come and collect your car at the weekend, if you‘re sober by then. Perhaps you'll be able to talk sensibly to your mother then, too.’