‘Where’s my birthday girl?’ In wafted Mum in a cloud of perfume, with Dad trailing in her wake like a small tugboat. ‘How are you, darling?�... she enquired. ‘Having a good day?’ ‘Better than it was,’ I admitted, with a shamefaced grin at my initial reaction. ‘Have you got me a pressie?’ ‘Of course, sweetie, how could we forget? Daddy has it, look.’ I turned to see my dad hold a box out to me. Grinning I took the handle from him and sat down on the sofa with it. I unfolded the top flap and. The place was half full. Some of the tables had couples that were talking and or eating. A couple tables had couples that were making out.One table had man and a lady; both looked to be in their upper 30s sitting across from each other. The guy’s head was back and was looking up, and he looked like he was happy. His hands were under the table. A couple seconds later a girl came up from under the table. She looked to be like 14-years-old. She was wiping her mouth. She was standing next to the. More

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