Family Commitments

Bathyllus was standing with his back to me, and sitting on the bed was a seriously-unshaven late-middle-aged man in a grubby threadbare tunic. Bathyllus turned round, the guy got up, and they both stared at me, jaws dropping, like actors at the end of a play where the god is lowered from a crane to sort out a too-convoluted plot. 'Hi, sunshine, ' I said to Bathyllus. 'So who's your friend?' I'd never, ever seen Bathyllus lost for words before, but I saw it now. He swallowed a couple of time...