It was a catastrophe waiting to happen; at least that’s what Nolan always said. He’d been in two wars and knew these things. It was a catastrophe waiting to happen, and when it does, boy, are we going to know about it.
Nolan’s upbringing had been difficult. He’d been shunted from one parent to another, to several step-mothers, to several step-fathers, and back. At one stage he had eleven grandparents – all useless. Going into the army was a life saver. It turned him into the man he was.
When Nolan said it was a catastrophe waiting to happen he was generally right. While serving in Afghanistan he had successfully predicted at least three events that came to pass almost exactly as he had said. Now he was back home. He had left the army and was working for a drain layer. His was a happy and stable marriage. He was in a perfect position to read the signs of the times and predict any pending gloom.
And then catastrophe struck. It was almost exactly as Nolan had said. It was uncanny. Funny how things like that happen. Some people just know that when ones spouse is doing the baking the cookies will get burnt. Shortbread was Nolan’s favourite, and they were almost inedible.