Mark had been aware of the man on the balcony. Again, as had happened the last time he’d seen him, the man seemed to be looking at him. Imagination, he figured, but he still closed the curtains before trying to decide where else people could sit for the party. He’d called Roger, Ellie, and Helena to invite them, and they’d all accepted, with the women asking if it was all right for them to bring their husbands. He’d said of course, which meant there would be ten people, including himself. He hadn’t even considered asking the guy, Bert, who worked at the coffee shop. He didn’t know him well enough to feel comfortable doing so.
Ten people, and only eight places to sit, if you squish three onto the sofa. He eyed the coffee table. It was pretty solid—so maybe turn it into a bench for the even
