The Uninvited

pouring and stirring are soothing – I try tomake sense of what Belinda told me aboutAshok’s brother-in-law. But I can’t. All Ican picture is colours. A Desert Sandcarpet in Ashok’s sister’s home, stainedHeliotrope with blood. Freddy eats hisporridge ravenously and then, when Ipresent him with the scrambled eggs,pronounces: ‘That’s not enough. I wantmore.’‘Eat them and then decide.’The eggs are gone in seconds.‘I told you,’ he says. I switch toobservation mode. He still hasn’tmentioned his mother. He jumps downfrom his chair, swings open the door ofthe food cupboard, and pulls out a can oftuna. ‘Pass me the tin-opener,’ hecommands. A moment later he has