A strange, unexpected calm had settled over Aida when Thomas walked through the door. She had moved out from underneath the soft weight of Elsie’s body and simply left them alone. Crossed their shared yard and quietly locked herself in her own house.
Aida didn’t know what would happen between Elsie and her husband. Would she expect to hear noises? The sounds of things being thrown or broken? Would Thomas’s car start up and roar away in a cloud of dust and gravel?
Aida smoked a cigarette and made herself a cup of tea. Surveying the sparsely furnished dining and lounge, she decided she would order some more furniture. She had been saving her father’s allowance, and mentally she challenged him to begrudge her. After what they did, after their deceit, let them try and deny her. Let them think she might otherwise open her mouth and say something out loud.
She took out her stationery set. It was cowardly – she should call her mother on the telephone – but a letter felt more formal. A letter announcing her decision to stay on at the house in Gawler indefinitely, a written admission that she felt unsure she could ever face her parents again, would be harder for her mother to argue with.