Excerpt from Steve’s narrative in The Network,   episode 1  

Still the Good Son, I remember to offer them coffee. No takers. Dad is back on the spreadsheet, sipping mineral water and Mum has opened a bottle of white wine to accompany the Novel.  Both fighting again on familiar ground. Dad: look how hard I have to work. Mum: you’re driving me to drink.  But they seem genuinely pleased at my offer.  Dad puts down the spreadsheet and clasps me round the shoulder.

“Steve. That was a very mature discussion. I’m proud of you.” The clasp gets a little firmer. Enough to make me believe it might be a hug. Mum’s turn.

“Come over here, handsome.” She holds my face in her hands and checks it against Dad’s. I think she’s confirming that her family genes won out. Another ruffle of my hair, and a kiss. More than a duty one.

Years back, we might have played Monopoly at this stage, but now nobody’s sorry that I’m tired and I want to go to bed early. I treat myself to the massage unit on the shower and a very hot full bath with Mum’s special oil which she doesn’t know I’ve discovered. Bad Son! Muscles uncoil. Hot, muggy night. I walk naked to my bedroom window and simply drip dry.

There’s just room enough for my delivery stride. Watch myself in my little mirror, bowling the magic ball once again at Brendon.  Glad animal action. Turn to salute the crowd and crash onto the bed.

Glad animal inaction.

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