There are little splatters of red wine on the lampshade.

I was doodling little hearts in blue ink around my name at midnight, and she said, "There is no such thing as lasting love." I pulled a face and didn't let on how bad it felt to hear that. Bowed my head and made a point in colouring in meticulously and silently the hearts in red pen.

"It's a wonder you've all turned out so...normal and sane."