Twenty-Four Years Ago
Bech wanders back into the house, closing the door behind him. Tugging a frayed curtain aside, he watches to be sure the car pulls away, then makes his way to the living room where a table is laid out.
Places are set with paper plates and party hats. A cake takes centre-field; iced, be-candled and decorated with cartoon bunnies. Happy Birthday Jenny. Another bunny crouches to one side; pink blancmange. Tiny triangular sandwiches, the crusts cut away, are piled on a plate. Bech picks one from the top and stuffs it whole into his mouth, chews then spits it out.
“f*****g tuna.”
He stands back, considering the room. Balloons in groups of three and four bulge from the ceiling corners; bird-blue, primrose-yellow and plastic-pony-pink highlights against wallpaper stained
