Don’t know why I do it. Same date every year I set the table for four places for dinner. Me, Susie, Jake and Kirsty. I’m the only one who turns up. Not surprising really, all things considered. I know Jake’s not coming. How can he? I shot him five years ago when I found him in bed with my wife. My best friend he was. Now he’s buried in the cellar, under a rack of his favourite red wine. Susie, my dear wife, is right alongside him. And Kirsty? Poor old Kirsty. Just chose the wrong time to come visiting.