Who loves ya, baby? (Extract)

The house resembled a mirror image of their minds. An oak table with five chairs stood in the centre of the kitchen covered with plates of yesterday’s food, coffee stained mugs, empty beer cans and an overflowing ashtray. The sink was filled with crockery in brown, greasy water. Space was at a premium on the counter tops too. They were filled to capacity with dirty pots and pans, old newspapers and magazines along with top of the range electrical appliances. A long row of neatly positioned herbs and spices lay untouched for years. The floor was caked with a sticky substance that made it difficult to traverse without the aid of a sturdy shoe. The walls and ceiling were brown with the breath of a tortured existence. The fluorescent light struggled to produce a beam, overpowered by the same glue that crawled its way from the floor, up the walls and across the tube. The windows were guarded by similar grime and just like the residents the light was fading with each passing day.

Perched in the lounge was the house parrot. His cage, the only clean item in the downstairs part of the home glistened, allowing his red and green plume to flourish. Amanda placed him on the T.V. twice daily, allocating herself twenty minutes to thoroughly clean the  silver interior. A large fresh bag of his favourite food stood to attention below his home. He only spoke with a full belly, he nattered all day long. “Who loves ya, baby” and “Book him Dano, murder one” were his two favourite quips but he surprised both Amanda and Glen with new additions on a monthly basis. They both loved him like the child they had always yearned. He was the result of a raging argument when Glen had insulted Amanda’s mother at a house party years earlier. Glen had disappeared for a week, drank himself almost to death and returned on the doorstep with Henry, his cage, two black eyes and a broken arm. She never found out what really happened but she didn’t care. She fell in love with Henry the moment she laid eyes on him coupled with his first comment, “He’s a dick” and she could have sworn that he raised and pointed his wing towards Glen at that precise moment. She had laughed for a week and continued to smile for a month remembering the incident. It was soon after that that happiness had packed its bags for good and left on a permanent holiday or so she thought.