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Dr Rawlings closed the door of Warren's room softly behind them. He said, "today was a bad day, but he has good days too. The treatment here is excellent, and I cannot overemphasise the beneficial effects of a strong support system. Your coming to visit him regularly is of the utmost importance."

Thanking him for his reassuring words, Ingrid hurried after the girls. She told them, "Better say nothing to Granny and Grandpa about what happened." To Caroline, she whispered, "I'm very proud of you, love. You stood up for me, and you weren't afraid. Perhaps you'll become a psychiatrist like Dr Rawlings one day, hmm?"

Caroline smiled. She had a thoughtful look in her eyes, as if she were imagining herself in the role which Ingrid had described.

The three of them sat on the bench under the plane trees while the others went upstairs to Warren's room. As it turned out, Vernon was the only one to see him because Dr Rawlings explained about the previous day's episode and cautioned them against too many visitors. Alice was put out, but as Ingrid told Rosalie later:
"It could have been a disaster. I couldn't tell the folks what Warren had said to me because I wasn't meant to know about Nadine. But imagine if Tracey had gone in? Imagine if the mention of her name had caused another outburst? Honestly, I don't think Mum realises how dangerous the situation is for Tracey. If she had found out today about her true identity, I would not be writing to you tonight. In fact, I probably would not even be here to write. I would have left town with the girls. It would have been that bad."

Ingrid's mood continued to spiral downwards for the rest of that weekend. By Monday, she had worked herself into such a state that she was thinking seriously about what she would do if they had to leave Steelesbury in a hurry. She wrote feverishly to Rosalie:
"I could go to one of my brothers, but I doubt they would be very helpful. There's this other guy who runs a wholesale nursery in Johannesburg, and I know he would give us a place to stay for a few days. His name is Carl Meier. I know he's got a big enough house because I've seen it at the back of the property. Also, he's generous. His wife left him a few months ago and he keeps asking me to go out to lunch with him when I'm there on business."

That night, she lay awake, imagining what Rosalie would think when she read about Carl. Given the time difference between South Africa and New Zealand, her friend might be opening the email even as she was counting the hours to dawn. Several times she thought about getting out of bed and checking the inbox for a reply. The more she thought about the invitation to lunch, and about Rosalie's surprise at her mention of it, the more she wondered what it would be like to accept. She had envied Beth for her romantic interest, but what was stopping her from having a fling of her own? Certainly not loyalty to a blameless husband.

She was still thinking along these lines when she bumped into Beth on Tuesday at the supermarket. Beth was wearing black trousers and a soft floral blouse which made her look very feminine. Her shiny blonde curls were swept up and away from her ears, drawing attention to her tiny glass earrings. The overall effect was stunning, and on impulse, Ingrid invited her for a cup of coffee at the Penny Whistle.

The Penny Whistle was one of the newer coffee shops in town, catering to tourists travelling to and from the nearby African Dream Casino. It was decorated in the style of a spaza shop with tables tucked between shelves of bulging brown paper packets and Hessian sacks. Hanging gas lamps illuminated bright posters that featured popular soccer stars, jazz musicians and television personalities. Besides the fact that it offered privacy for an intimate chat, it also served the best iced coffee in town.

As soon as they'd seated themselves, Ingrid leaned across the table and asked, "So Beth, how's Brian? Judging from the way you look, things must be going well."

"They are," Beth confirmed. "I saw him twice last week after talking to you."

A dumpy black waitress with enormous brown eyes came across to take their order, causing Beth to look away. Ingrid placed the order for two iced coffees, then looked keenly at her friend.

"I'm sorry," Beth said, shaking her head. "It's not that I expect you to buy my coffee for me. It's just that she …"

Ingrid nodded sympathetically. Something about the waitress's shape or manner had reminded Beth of Barney's girlfriend. It was hard to believe that he'd chosen someone like her in preference to Beth, but there was no accounting for taste. Carl certainly wouldn't do that. Suddenly, she found herself picturing Carl's handsome face inclining towards her as it had done the last time she'd driven up to fetch supplies.

Beth looked at her curiously. "You okay, Ingrid?"

"I'm fine," she replied. But as she fingered the ivory scarf in her hair, she was planning what to wear the next time she went to the city.

**

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