Open Writing

Judging from the mist rising over the valley to the south of Steelesbury, it promised to be another sweltering day. Ingrid dressed in work jeans, T-shirt and rubber-soled shoes, aware that her hair looked the worse for her restless night. She bunched the frizzy blond mass carelessly into a ponytail and put on a peaked cap to keep the early morning sun off her face.

Outside, the garden was rich in its summer greenness. The flowerbeds along the west wall of the house abounded with clumps of blue and pink hydrangeas. With Sputnik and Apollo, her two German Shepherds, at her heels, she made her way through the gate in the monkey-berry hedge to the netted field at the back.

Here, Alice Steele had started the flower business as a hobby when Warren was a boy. She'd supplied the town with cut flowers for years. More recently, she and Ingrid had been actively growing the enterprise into a regional market player. This had entailed preparing new fields, putting up more nets and buying in new stock. It was interesting work and flexible enough to allow Ingrid to be both a mother and a career person at the same time.

Walking up the gentle slope, she was in time to see the pickers arriving with bundles on their heads. Two elderly women were setting down buckets beside a row of Ingrid Bergman bushes, aglow with velvety crimson blooms. Despite the warm weather, they wore heavy black shawls around their shoulders, a grim reminder of the tragedy that had overtaken them in recent weeks. Both women had lost grownup children to AIDS and were now having to provide for their orphaned grandchildren. Reflecting on their difficulties, Ingrid was momentarily humbled by the scale of their worries in comparison to her own.

Nevertheless, her own quickly took precedence as she spotted Alice hailing her from the opposite corner of the field where she'd parked her Ford. It gleamed bright red in the morning sunlight and Alice’s crisp blue blouse stood out against it like a flag. She too was wearing a sunhat and her eyes were screened by a pair of sporty mirrored sunglasses.

Ingrid waved at her with what she hoped looked like breezy cheerfulness. Inside, though, her stomach clenched itself into a knot. Alice was a keen observer of detail. Would she notice Ingrid's disheveled appearance and interrogate her on what the matter was? She hoped not.

"Hello, darling!" said Alice brightly when she drew near. "Did your day with the wholesalers go smoothly? It was so hot!"

Ingrid nodded. "It went fine, thanks Mum. I got the fungicide we ordered, plus the info on the roses that are coming out next season. The prices are going up quite a lot but I think the budget will be able to stretch that far …" She batted a fly away from her face and let her gaze follow its erratic flight among the hybrid teas. "There are also some end-of-year specials on varieties like Peace and Queen Elizabeth which I thought we should go for."

"Really?" Alice's brow was furrowed.

"Yes, but Carl says they're selling out fast. I’ll put the printout on your desk."

"Wonderful." Alice paused. "But you’re looking pale. Was it a bit too much for you … the long drive?"

Here it comes, Ingrid thought. Keep it light. "Not at all. I was up late last night, getting things ready for the girls’ camp and I forgot to eat supper. My stomach was a bit upset in the night … probably from the chips I bought on the way home. It’ll pass, don’t worry."

At this, Alice smiled broadly. "I told you not to buy junk food, my girl! Next time I hope you’ll have a proper meal at a decent restaurant like we do. Put it on the card! It all comes off tax anyway."

Ingrid tried to grin sheepishly. "I know, but I always feel so awkward sitting at a restaurant on my own. It was just easier to eat on the road. Will you look at that printout and let me know what you think. Carl said the sale stock is likely to be gone by next week, so …"

Alice’s sunglasses flashed. "You told me that already, darling. Are you sure you're all right? Not coming down with a cold or something?"

"I'm fine," Ingrid assured her. "Carl says he'll put whatever we want aside …"

"Ah, Carl!" said Alice. "Charming boy. All right, I’ll get on to it as soon as I reach the office." She paused again, as if still doubtful about Ingrid's condition. "Will you take today’s flowers through to Margie, or shall I?" Margie Thomas was their oldest customer. She owned the florist shop in town. Once upon a time, she'd been a close friend of Alice’s but their friendship had cooled of late.

Ingrid told her firmly, "It’ll suit me to do it. I’ve got to pop into the library anyway. Caroline and Debbie will be on holiday from tomorrow and they’ll need books to read."

"Alice nodded briskly. "Good. I was hoping you'd say that because I've got bible study this morning."

Bible study! Ingrid closed her eyes. Of course, it was Thursday. Plain, ordinary, like-any-other Thursday. The world was still rotating on its axis. The town still observed its unchanging routine. Even Steelesbury was still intact, despite the family being perched unknowingly on a knife-edge and about to crash and burn.

**