They’re weren’t so much my parents as they were wardens of my house. Oh, don’t get me started on my house. It was their throne of glory. Glory o... how much money they had. It was a dream house, the kind people walk through and dreamed about. Three stories, clean carpets, newly painted walls, a confusing lay out that would get Christopher Colombus lost, stairs every where, chairs no one was allowed to sit in, abstract paintings that looked like a mental patients did them, tables with a layout of. ‘There is no way I’m taking any more of her shit,’ I addressed the house. Gently uncurling, I lifted the phone. My first call was to my parents to check how Harry and Georgie were. Once reassured that they had been packed off to school to keep their routine as normal as possible, I phoned Milla. ‘My name is Jack Winters, may I speak to Ms Fielding, please.’ The receptionist put me through immediately. Evidently Milla was expecting my call. ‘Jack, when can you come in? David is on stand-by.’. More

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