Fine story by English writer Tess Hadley in current New Yorker

Tessa Hadley continues her run of excellent, "veddy English" stories in the New Yorker, as she  vies to become the Munro/Trevor of the next generation of readers. Her story in current NYer, Cecelia Awakened - a cool title as it is also the 1st w words of the story, in which instance "awakened" verb (past tense) whereas in the title "awakened" is a modifier/adj. The story tells of an English teen who is closely bonded w/ her somewhat elderly, serious, scholarly parents -sharing w/ them all their interests in art history, old English houses and historical sites, seeming to be content in her life though w/out, it seems, any close relationships w/ her peers in age. The family goes on a vacation to Florence, which turns out to be the scene of her first steps toward independence: She gets a sense of how others (Italians) see her parents (fussy British tourists), she's a little embarrassed by her parents, becomes sulky and difficult (for the first time, it seems), eventually splits from them in the midst of some sightseeing on their last day and heads back alone to their hotel (they share a room, to save money, w/ Cecilia sleeping on a trundle bed, an example of their uncomfortable closeness) - a minuscule teenage result, to be sure (veddy English?), but monumental in the life of this family and an experience all teens and their parents are familiar w/ in one way or another. As always, Hadley handles the narrative deftly and efficiently, giving just enough detail to bring us into the lives of the members of this family, but not doing anything radical or melodramatic - although in an odd narrative twist the final paragraph focuses on the mother wondering what Cecilia will do back in their hotel room, rather than bring us the info directly from Cecilia's POV. Hadley writes particularly well about children and young adults (cf Munro), this being the most recent example.