I turn off the van's engine and sit.

Welcome to the Happy Place Book Club with me, Fern Cotton.

Through the window on the other side of the house, I see the shadows of movement.

Today, don't let him in by Lisa Jewel.

I hear the muted murmur of chatter.

There are four cars parked outside.

Clearly the day is still going strong.

I go to the side of the van and pull open the door. There it is. My last delivery of the day.

An extra large bouquet of white hydrangeas and roses. No expense spared, in a pink bag.

On the envelope is the inscription Nina Swan and Family.

I walked towards the front door, peering in subtly as I passed the kitchen window.

A small group sits around the table, a mix of younger and older people.

They all have wine, are dressed somberly.

There is music playing.

Candles are flickering.

I see art and photography and graphics on the walls.

I see a designer kitchen in midnight blue and pink, with flashes of brass and copper, big globe light bulbs hanging at irregular intervals from golden chains, plants on shelves.

Through a door at the back of the kitchen, I see huge velvet sofas, a mixing desk, a guerrillas poster. It's the home of a

gen X man who has made good decisions, made a success of his life, piled his building blocks one

on top of the other with precision and care, but also the home of a man who made one really bad mistake,

that his wife and his family are going to pay for over and over again.

I keep moving past the window and then I put my finger to the doorbell.

...