“So how was it, Mum?”
Sarah sighed and sat back in her seat, a tear glistening on her cheek. She turned her head away to hide it and looked out of the car window as the bare trees sped past in the gathering gloom.
“Oh, a laugh a minute – just like all funerals”, she snapped,.then immediately felt remorse. “I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t mean that. I’m just a bit…..upset, you know?”
“It’s OK, Mum.” Her son reached over and took her hand. An uncomfortable silence descended until, “Who was that chap, anyway, Robin Hastings-Smythe? Someone you knew before? I’ve heard of his brother, of course. Read about him in the papers. Permanent Secretary and all that. – loads of gongs.”
Sarah squeezed her eyes shut to hide more tears. “Robin was the finest and bravest man I have ever known. Look, there’s a pub further up the road. Pull over. I need a drink and you might want one too.”
As the weak November sun faded behind the forest, the car crunched over the gravel of the old coaching inn car-park and mother and son walked into the lounge bar. They collected drinks and settled themselves in front of the glowing log fire.
“So, what’s this all about?
Sarah sighed again, pushed her head back into the armchair and took a deep swallow of her G & T. “It had to come out at some time, I suppose. I couldn’t keep it secret for ever and it wouldn’t have been fair to you anyway. Your father, or rather the man I married, wasn’t your father. I was still at school. I was only seventeen. Everyone thought it was Robin and he took the blame, resigned and was banished to Australia. He spent the rest of his life amongst the snakes and spiders and Murray Greys just to keep David’s reputation intact, but it was David. David is your father.”
“Oh my God!”
“Robin…..make mine a large one, please.”
OZ
Boadicea's Chariot 
Intrigue… and upset: a good mix….
but you have another 1670 words or so which haven’t been used 🙂 – please can we have more?
Less is more (I hope) 😀
OZ