Ela’s mother went inside for lime water, plates and glasses. They spent the morning there washing clothes, putting them through the wringer which, every so often, would slip out of its lock and swing. Oriwia helped hang the clothes, cloths and covers over lines. All could be dry within an hour she realised. They chatted as they worked, Aki being the negotiator between the two languages.

As the day went on, they helped themselves to marinated fish, sliced fruit, kalo and cool drinks.

‘So you wouldn’t notice the holes in the walls,’ Ela said of the drapery in Oriwia and Chappy’s bedroom. Everyone laughed. The state of the old house was a source of great amusement to them. Oriwia, who had been asking herself why Chappy would give up a convenient and well-manicured apartment for such a dilapidated old place, felt a jolt of guilt. The family had made special efforts for her because … She looked at Aki. Because of certain perceptions they had of her. This is what Aki’s amused look confirmed.

‘It’s lovely,’ she said. ‘I had a wonderful sleep, and, and … welcomed the ventilation.’

They all laughed.

There was no loneliness.

‘And the roof is very good,’ Chappy said. ‘My mate and I patched it up after the last rain.’

‘The big room is all waterproofed too,’ Aki said. ‘When the rain comes, we drag all our bedding in there to sleep.’

‘Had to put buckets everywhere,’ Ela said, ‘to find out where the water’s coming in.’

But they’d done Chappy’s room first because Oriwia was coming. Aki was watching her. She thought of Jimmy’s old shop. ‘I’m familiar with leaky roofs,’ she said, ‘and shifting bedding around.’

‘Well, couldn’t have you and Chappy changing your bed about, hey Chap?’ Ela said. ‘Better things to do now that your wife’s here.’

‘Make up for lost time,’ was what she thought Ela’s mother said. ‘Hey Chap? Hey Oriwia?’

When they woke to rain two nights later, she was grateful not to have to move to communal sleeping. Lights came on, mattresses were shifted. Chappy put his hand over hers, with his thumb hooked under her palm. She slid back into sleep. The rain beat down.

Ela and her mother took Oriwia in hand while Chappy was away at work. They persuaded her out of her synthetic clothing to try on loose cotton frocks and sarongs. She liked the dresses. They were airy and comfortable. The colours, the wide fit, made her feel as though she were a different self, one not so fierce, so on guard – a melted version. The sarongs she couldn’t manage except as waist wrap-arounds to be worn with a cotton shirt. Dressed in bright and unfamiliar clothes, she accompanied Ela and her mother to the stalls and food markets and gradually adjusted to a more leisurely and companionable way of getting through the day’s chores and routines.