This Too Shall Pass by S. J. Finn Page A

open, although it was clearly still a struggle. Eddy, who now had his shoe hooked on the end of his stockinged toe, was fiddling with his skullcap, pushing the hairpins further onto his scalp, as if a neat, well-secured calotte would make up for a chaotic, untidy fray between highly paid people.
    I realised how divergent the personalities in front of me were, the hotchpotch in the room. I thought of Renny, and looked forward to spilling the news of this stoush to her. Nancy rubbed one eye, yawned in a lengthy, face-shuddering manner and said, ‘I think it’s up to each and every individual to deal with their own deficits. Nobody can drag anybody anywhere much, not really.’
    â€˜Perhaps all they can do is suggest,’ I ventured, nodding at the older woman, whose face obviously sagged the way it did from years of struggling to stay awake. ‘There are non-confrontational ways to keep people abreast. Make sure they’re aware of contemporary realities for families. Bring them on board, if you’ll excuse the platitude, might be the way to put it.’
    â€˜Perfect answer,’ Anton sang.
    I left the interview ten minutes later, a giggle burbling cheekily in my throat. How could you not love the dysfunction?
    James was at his desk.
    I shut his door secretively. (I had forgiven him for our argument in the courtyard, had even taken his advice and calmed down about Nigel.)
    â€˜They started fighting.’
    He sat back, his hands folded in front of him. ‘Who won?’
    â€˜I think I handed Anton an open hand.’
    â€˜The side the butter is on. That’s good. You’ve got the job.’
    â€˜This place…’ I was incredulous. ‘Really. No one agrees on anything.’
    He shrugged, placing his pen in a tray of office accessories. ‘Reflects the general status quo.’
    â€˜Their status quo! Not mine.’
    He laughed. ‘They’ll get you.’
    â€˜Earth to James, they have got me – us. We’re working with them. That makes us them.’
    â€˜You’re the one climbing into their bunker.’
    â€˜If I get this job, you’re coming with me. I’ll be appointing you my deputy.’
    â€˜Sheriff’s office. Gotta love that.’
    â€˜Get your badge on, kiddo.’ I was thinking past James; I wanted to get home to Renny. I was staring out his window at a rockrose, its musty pink flowers drooping, the papery petals missing where it had been rubbing on the glass. ‘Your first task is to tell me if you detect the slightest change in me. I’d hate to become one of them. Hate it.’
    â€˜Didn’t you just… aren’t we already both…?’
    â€˜Arrh…’ I went towards him growling, my hands poised to close in around his neck.

TWENTY-FIVE
    I n-laws. I didn’t consider, certainly at the time, that I’d betrayed them too. But, like a lot of things, often it’s not until each piece of the jigsaw has been tried for size that people know how things are going to pan out.
    I arrived one morning, as arranged, to pick Marcus up. Geoff and Faye Ashcroft had always been outdoor types. They lived close to the beach and their house, appropriately bleached, had an open-air feel. There were large decked areas around a barbecue and plenty of outdoor furniture, everything framed by striped awnings. They were up-front people, welcoming, sunny. I remembered Dave’s criticisms about their lack of political insight, their disinterest in the arts, their shallow uncomplicated outlook on life. I’d been quick to agree. But as I walked along the side of the looming two-storey house, the memory of our harsh words stuck to me like dried mud. They had always been so good to me, accepted me so readily into their unblemished fold.
    While my parents had suffered from the break up too, the same strong reaction that rose in me that morning had never surfaced when I’d seen them. Maybe this was