They had to at least act as though they’d lived together at one point. ‘Mom, no one can be perfect.’ Joan, looked at Maran in near contempt for ...alking back. The dinner table was often a battleground. They’d never had meals anywhere else, some were quiet and some weren’t. Joan was a lawyer who cared too much for her job and her boss, Kirsa was always getting into brawls at school, and Maran was the solemn one. ‘You have proved that enough, haven’t you? I got a call from your principal earlier.. His parents bodies lay in separate coffins, driven slowly around around the street in which he grew up, parading their deaths to the world. The neighbours who weren’t coming to the funeral, mainly the one's that his mum had thought of as nosey and his dad had moaned about constantly, were stood at the ends of their gardens, head bowed in a final show of respect to people they no doubt disliked. He could hear his Aunt Marge crying into an handkerchief, but he didn't turn away from the window. He. More

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