” “It’s you. You’ll drive anybody to drink.” “I know.” “All right, Nathan. Look after him.” “Will do. See you soon.” “Bye.” ...��Bye, Holly.” I put the phone down. She was cool with me letting him crash out at mine. She had no problem with him getting pissed at mine. We got on brilliant, the three of us. So there he was, bless him. Liam. Crashed out on the sofa looking dead sweet. Sometimes I wish I didn’t feel the way I did about him. I loved him like he loved Holly. I suppose I was in love with. At any given time, Mozart or Ravel could be heard wafting over the backyard fences.When my wife was at home dying of cancer, she always wanted her window opened just a crack just so she could hear the melodies (no matter how badly they were sometimes performed.)She died in April at the age of twenty-nine. Camelia brought a pan of chicken spaghetti over after the funeral. She sat on the sofa and cried - partly for my loss and partly for her own. Then, she went home to her empty house and I. More

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