I got out of my car and collected the painting from the back seat. When I was certain the car was secure, I walked towards Oliver’s place. It wasn’t hard to miss. The fence was festooned with balloons and the closer I got, the louder the party music grew.
Politely as ever, I knocked on the door, but the noise from the music and the children shouting and playing no doubt drowned out the sound of my knocking.
I entered. There were streamers and balloons everywhere. I knew immediately I was out of my element. Children ran by me in the middle of some game or other. I gripped the painting more tightly as though it had become some kind of security blanket.
“Hello,” I called.
The kitchen was a hub of activity. I spotted Oliver immediately. He was sliding a tray of mini sausage rolls into the oven.
“Hello, love,” he said when he turned around.
Every eye in the room was upon me.
“Hi,” I replied feebly.
He wiped his hands on a tea towel then kissed me on the lips.