hallway, snoring lightly, and then Alice finally slipped into sleep.
The sun was shining brightly through the gap between the curtains when she woke up. Saturday. Stay away from the internet, she told herself, she didn’t want to know, yet, how many people had died.
She could smell baking. She wandered through to the kitchen, where Marjorie was pulling a batch of scones out of the oven. It was eleven o’clock.
‘I left you to sleep in,’ Marjorie said. ‘And I thought scones would be nice for a late breakfast.’ There was a bowl of whipped cream on the dining table, along with a big slab of butter and two types of jam. Alice smiled. Marjorie was old-school food-wise, none of this low-fat eating. Milk was full fat and there was no cutting the fat off meat in her house. Alice would go for a run afterwards, to work some of it off. Marjorie was going to spend the day in the garden, she said. They had been eating Marjorie’s summer vegetables, which were getting scarce, and so Alice would have to go to the supermarket today. A supermarket. The nearby one was a wreck, fenced off and silt all through the carpark. One of the few remaining neighbours said it was a write-off and would be demolished. The nearest supermarket was in the city on Moorhouse Avenue, just on the edge of the red zone. Later Alice would go and wander the aisles along with the rest of the walking dead, seeking fresh vegetables and other supplies.
After her late breakfast, Alice went for a run, following the river, looking at the damage to houses. She needed to go back to Lindsay and Kevin’s and check that it was all right. There had been looters in the suburbs, breaking into houses and stealing valuables, including appliances and hot water cylinders. Scum. She would go over to the house later, in the car, on the way back from the supermarket.
There were two dairies near Marjorie’s house, but both were in bad shape, brick buildings with a lot of damage, one with a partially-collapsed canopy. Both were fenced off. Further down the road, there were cars parked in front of the tiny mall, which housed about half a dozen shops. There was a café down the back, could it be open for business? There was also a doctor’s office, but Alice didn’t think there would be so much traffic for that. Proper coffee! Alice had been to that café before, she came in occasionally and they had good coffee, baking done on the premises. But it had never done great business, tucked at the back of a row of shops on a low-traffic suburban road. Alice checked her jacket pockets and found a ten dollar note.
The café was full of people, more than Alice had seen in the rest of the suburb on her walk. It was like normal life in here, except all the people looked worn out, some with crazy hair. Some of the women wore no makeup, one had made an attempt and really shouldn’t have, the dark line of her eyeliner was shaky and broken along both eyes. But Alice couldn’t blame her for trying to do something to feel normal again.
She ordered a triple shot long black, to go, because there were so many people there Alice didn’t stand a chance of getting a seat. While she waited, she asked the owner, who was working the till, how it was they were still open. The building had no damage, she said, and once they had the power and water back on, there was no reason they couldn’t open up.
‘Business is good!’ Alice said, trying to contain her excitement. Maybe caffeine wasn’t a good idea. But it would be normal to have a long black, and after everything that had happened in the last two weeks and watching the footage of that tsunami coming ashore the night before, Alice desperately needed to do something normal.
‘A little too good,’ the woman said, wiping a stray bit of hair away from her forehead. ‘If you know anyone who wants a job, tell them to come see me.’ She handed Alice her coffee.
‘I will,’ Alice said. She walked home, sipping what she thought was the most
The sun was shining brightly through the gap between the curtains when she woke up. Saturday. Stay away from the internet, she told herself, she didn’t want to know, yet, how many people had died.
She could smell baking. She wandered through to the kitchen, where Marjorie was pulling a batch of scones out of the oven. It was eleven o’clock.
‘I left you to sleep in,’ Marjorie said. ‘And I thought scones would be nice for a late breakfast.’ There was a bowl of whipped cream on the dining table, along with a big slab of butter and two types of jam. Alice smiled. Marjorie was old-school food-wise, none of this low-fat eating. Milk was full fat and there was no cutting the fat off meat in her house. Alice would go for a run afterwards, to work some of it off. Marjorie was going to spend the day in the garden, she said. They had been eating Marjorie’s summer vegetables, which were getting scarce, and so Alice would have to go to the supermarket today. A supermarket. The nearby one was a wreck, fenced off and silt all through the carpark. One of the few remaining neighbours said it was a write-off and would be demolished. The nearest supermarket was in the city on Moorhouse Avenue, just on the edge of the red zone. Later Alice would go and wander the aisles along with the rest of the walking dead, seeking fresh vegetables and other supplies.
After her late breakfast, Alice went for a run, following the river, looking at the damage to houses. She needed to go back to Lindsay and Kevin’s and check that it was all right. There had been looters in the suburbs, breaking into houses and stealing valuables, including appliances and hot water cylinders. Scum. She would go over to the house later, in the car, on the way back from the supermarket.
There were two dairies near Marjorie’s house, but both were in bad shape, brick buildings with a lot of damage, one with a partially-collapsed canopy. Both were fenced off. Further down the road, there were cars parked in front of the tiny mall, which housed about half a dozen shops. There was a café down the back, could it be open for business? There was also a doctor’s office, but Alice didn’t think there would be so much traffic for that. Proper coffee! Alice had been to that café before, she came in occasionally and they had good coffee, baking done on the premises. But it had never done great business, tucked at the back of a row of shops on a low-traffic suburban road. Alice checked her jacket pockets and found a ten dollar note.
The café was full of people, more than Alice had seen in the rest of the suburb on her walk. It was like normal life in here, except all the people looked worn out, some with crazy hair. Some of the women wore no makeup, one had made an attempt and really shouldn’t have, the dark line of her eyeliner was shaky and broken along both eyes. But Alice couldn’t blame her for trying to do something to feel normal again.
She ordered a triple shot long black, to go, because there were so many people there Alice didn’t stand a chance of getting a seat. While she waited, she asked the owner, who was working the till, how it was they were still open. The building had no damage, she said, and once they had the power and water back on, there was no reason they couldn’t open up.
‘Business is good!’ Alice said, trying to contain her excitement. Maybe caffeine wasn’t a good idea. But it would be normal to have a long black, and after everything that had happened in the last two weeks and watching the footage of that tsunami coming ashore the night before, Alice desperately needed to do something normal.
‘A little too good,’ the woman said, wiping a stray bit of hair away from her forehead. ‘If you know anyone who wants a job, tell them to come see me.’ She handed Alice her coffee.
‘I will,’ Alice said. She walked home, sipping what she thought was the most
Similar Books
