Oops

Nicholas meets me at the door, with the dog barking at his heels.

"Who is it?" asks Tim.

"It's Christian," says Nicholas. He has a humerus note to his words, but I take no notice.

Tim is in the lounge room. The house is quiet, empty. There is nobody there.

"Where is ever body?" I ask. 6 pack in one hand and, gift-wrapped, what's more, bottle of Chardonnay for Tim in the other. "Am I late?"

"Only about twenty four hours," says Tim.

"What? Your birthday was yesterday?"

"You make me laugh," says Nicholas.

"Yes," says Tim. "Last night."

"Hey listen, I'm just off to get some hooch," says Nicholas. "Stay here and we'll have a smoke when I get back."

"Sure," I say. Nicholas pushes his bike out the front door. They are both trashed, hung over. The house is tidy, but tatty around the edges, you know, likes it's been pulled together with effort and dragging feet. I wonder if I should leave.

"How embarrassing, I've never done that before."

"It doesn't matter, it stretches my birthday out." Tim laughs. "It's kinda better this way. More birthday." He laughs again. "We need a drink."