With his ageing hippy mother and semi-invalid erstwhile playboy father rampaging back into his life, as well as a new wife and baby to care for, Roy Angel's days were pretty full. But he just couldn't resist a quick drink with his ex-colleague Terry Patterson, or agreeing to attend the funeral of a missing screenwriter's mother ...<BR>One thing led to another, as these things do, and all of a sudden Angel finds himself staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. As he studies the instrument of death (sincerely hoping it won't be the instrument of his death), he contemplates how his life has reached this point. In truth, he knows he shouldn't really be there at all, in his bolt-hole of a flat with bloodstains on the wall; he should be miles away in that back-of-beyond they call the country, snug in the bosom of his new family. But then he's never been very good at making the right choices and, let's face it, his parents must be to blame.