He sat down on the sofa and straightened the lace doilies she had placed on all the arm rests. They were thoroughly impractical, but they were pretty. She tried hard to make their apartment pretty. The furniture was too large, too ornate for the small, simple walls that contained it. The Persian rugs were too elaborate for the worn, polyester-mix carpet they hid. The apartment would never be elegant or stately, but they were both getting old now and would never be elegant or stately either. They would just have to be: in this apartment, together.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. He patted the sofa cushion next to him and she sat.

‘I just expected more. I wanted more,’ she said.

‘I expected more too,’ he said quietly. ‘I wanted more for you and I’m sorry. But you need to forgive me now and accept the path we’ve taken—the path I have taken for us.’

‘It wasn’t just you Rajan,’ she replied. ‘I chose this path too. I’ve been watching this black woman on television. Oprah, her name is. She says disappointment is only disappointment. We can choose to let go of it.’

‘Really? Did she say how?’ Rajan asked, trying not to smile.

‘I don’t know, but she seems very clever. What’s it like out there? Your new job, I mean,’ she asked.

‘It’s different, but I like it. The soldiers, they’re driven by duty, even though most of them have never been to war. Sometimes they’re scared of the things they’re being trained to do. The families are nice and sometimes they’re scared too. They’re young and many of them don’t even remember war. They’re in training and waiting, watching the horizon for something terrible to happen. War is always on the horizon, it’s in our nature isn’t it?’ he said, more to himself than her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated, looking at her.

Her anger receded a little, replaced by shame. ‘Don’t be. I’m sorry. I’m sorry too,’ she said.

‘I’ll take you home, Nala. I promise, as soon as we get our Australian passports. Colombo is supposed to be safer now; the fighting is only in the north. If we stay in the city, we’ll be safe.’

He passed her a doily to wipe her tears and she laughed.

•

A week later, Nala emerged from the bathroom and declared, ‘I’m coming with you today, Rajan.’

She was fully dressed in a simple but pretty sari. She didn’t want to overdo it for her first visit. Olive green was not her best colour but the sari had a yellow trim and she thought that was appropriately patriotic.

‘What do you mean, you’re coming with me?’ he asked. He was also dressed properly in a long-sleeved shirt, tie, and shiny shoes. He polished them once a week.