The Malcontents by C.P. Snow

Before Mark's visit, Stephen had wanted to come out with his decisions, and get the evening over. He had felt controlled and able to do it cleanly. Now he sat with his mother in the drawing-room, not willing (or more unable than that) to stir from his chair, on his face an absent expression which she misread. If he had been in a state to notice, he would have realized that she and his father had been preparing themselves all day: they had foreseen, or discovered, some of what he had to tell them: she took it for granted that this mood of his was because of that.

‘Come on,' she said, awkwardly, as though trying to sound like a companion. ‘I suggest you have a drink.'