THE laundry was half-dry by the time Beth finished hanging the load. Soon after, she and the kids, red-cheeked from their walk, were under a street umbrella, slurping gelati. They smelled the change before it hit. Then leaves skittered and fat raindrops burst like overripe fruit on parked cars.The bitumen steamed as the rain intensified. ‘Mum, the laundry!’ Sadie said. Beth halted their mad rush home after a block. ‘Fuck it!’ she said defiantly, the kids wide-eyed, thrilled. Instead, clothes clinging, they gambolled home in the deluge, colour returning to a washed-out world.