hopelessness of it held a certain appeal, but it would take too long. If Gwennie was going to kill herself she wanted something quicker. She realised with a start thatshe hadn’t contemplated that for a few days – not since she discovered the existence of Ms Clare Dalton. It seemed that discovery had given her a new outlet for her grief and all the pent-up energy it produced.
Marla disengaged herself. She was courteous but she wasn’t interested and made her way to the door. As she moved away the group lost their focus and naturally dissolved. Gwennie found herself standing next to Thomas. He smiled shyly. Gwennie frowned and turned her back. When a suitable amount of time had elapsed so that it wouldn’t look like she was following Marla, Gwennie left too. She looked for Marla in the street but all she got was a glimpse of auburn hair and a colourful scarf whizzing past in a taxi.
*
Clare felt unsettled as she drove home from Susan’s. She had a lot to think about. So many of the things she took for granted in her life were changing. It made the world seem a precarious place, unstable and suddenly unpredictable.
That Mr Sanjay had gone was still unbearable. For so long he had been a reassuring presence, dispensing calm and wisdom whenever she needed it. He also provided an intellectual framework she could use to work things out. Without him she was uncertain how to respond to the whirlwind that seemed to be sweeping through her life.
The news about the Lee family upset her deeply. Throughout her teenage years they had been aconstant fixture and helped give her a sense of stability. Now it seemed they were a bunch of fakes and she was angry to have been so deceived. She hadn’t been able to express how she felt to Susan. It didn’t seem like her right so, instead, while she soothed and sympathised with her friend, her sense of betrayal sat in the pit of her stomach. Susan was the daughter, the one who had a right to feel betrayed, and somehow Clare had been relegated to being just a bit player, an afterthought.
She was annoyed by Susan’s outrage, though she didn’t know why. Clare’s annoyance was irrational and, much as she turned it over in her mind, she couldn’t understand her feelings or where they sprang from. It made her feel guilty and churlish. She was also angry with Susan’s parents. How dare Mr Lee run off. And how dare Mrs Lee be happy about it. In fact how dare they not be the perfect family she wanted them to be.
And she was confused about Marla. So she was an alcoholic. How was it that Clare could have lived at 44 Dadue Street all these years, in the next bedroom, and not know? How could Marla and Peg deliberately hide such a thing from her? Was the whole world lying to her, presenting a false façade? Was anything real?
The gloom weighed on her as she drove down Dadue Street. As she drew close to her home she noticed a black Saab parked outside Mr Sanjay’s neat Californian bungalow and she could see the outline of a person in the driver’s seat. They must be waiting for someone, probably at number 41.They were always having parties. Not Mr Sanjay, she thought. His curtains were drawn and the house was dark. An auction sign was nailed to the neat white picket fence. Deceased Estate, it said, in large black letters. The auction was set for a Saturday in four weeks. Clare couldn’t bear the thought of someone buying the home and moving in. It would no doubt be a young couple who would immediately demolish Mr Sanjay’s old shed and put down terracotta paving. Clare drove past the Saab glancing at the silhouette of the driver. It looked like a woman, sitting very still. Clare looked back at the auction sign. She hoped the new owners of 42, whoever they would be, liked hollyhocks. Then she turned the little yellow Honda into her driveway, wishing the world would just slow down and stop changing so fast. She felt giddy, like she needed to catch her breath.
After a few minutes the driver in
Marla disengaged herself. She was courteous but she wasn’t interested and made her way to the door. As she moved away the group lost their focus and naturally dissolved. Gwennie found herself standing next to Thomas. He smiled shyly. Gwennie frowned and turned her back. When a suitable amount of time had elapsed so that it wouldn’t look like she was following Marla, Gwennie left too. She looked for Marla in the street but all she got was a glimpse of auburn hair and a colourful scarf whizzing past in a taxi.
*
Clare felt unsettled as she drove home from Susan’s. She had a lot to think about. So many of the things she took for granted in her life were changing. It made the world seem a precarious place, unstable and suddenly unpredictable.
That Mr Sanjay had gone was still unbearable. For so long he had been a reassuring presence, dispensing calm and wisdom whenever she needed it. He also provided an intellectual framework she could use to work things out. Without him she was uncertain how to respond to the whirlwind that seemed to be sweeping through her life.
The news about the Lee family upset her deeply. Throughout her teenage years they had been aconstant fixture and helped give her a sense of stability. Now it seemed they were a bunch of fakes and she was angry to have been so deceived. She hadn’t been able to express how she felt to Susan. It didn’t seem like her right so, instead, while she soothed and sympathised with her friend, her sense of betrayal sat in the pit of her stomach. Susan was the daughter, the one who had a right to feel betrayed, and somehow Clare had been relegated to being just a bit player, an afterthought.
She was annoyed by Susan’s outrage, though she didn’t know why. Clare’s annoyance was irrational and, much as she turned it over in her mind, she couldn’t understand her feelings or where they sprang from. It made her feel guilty and churlish. She was also angry with Susan’s parents. How dare Mr Lee run off. And how dare Mrs Lee be happy about it. In fact how dare they not be the perfect family she wanted them to be.
And she was confused about Marla. So she was an alcoholic. How was it that Clare could have lived at 44 Dadue Street all these years, in the next bedroom, and not know? How could Marla and Peg deliberately hide such a thing from her? Was the whole world lying to her, presenting a false façade? Was anything real?
The gloom weighed on her as she drove down Dadue Street. As she drew close to her home she noticed a black Saab parked outside Mr Sanjay’s neat Californian bungalow and she could see the outline of a person in the driver’s seat. They must be waiting for someone, probably at number 41.They were always having parties. Not Mr Sanjay, she thought. His curtains were drawn and the house was dark. An auction sign was nailed to the neat white picket fence. Deceased Estate, it said, in large black letters. The auction was set for a Saturday in four weeks. Clare couldn’t bear the thought of someone buying the home and moving in. It would no doubt be a young couple who would immediately demolish Mr Sanjay’s old shed and put down terracotta paving. Clare drove past the Saab glancing at the silhouette of the driver. It looked like a woman, sitting very still. Clare looked back at the auction sign. She hoped the new owners of 42, whoever they would be, liked hollyhocks. Then she turned the little yellow Honda into her driveway, wishing the world would just slow down and stop changing so fast. She felt giddy, like she needed to catch her breath.
After a few minutes the driver in
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