In the laundry, she shed her wet shoes and paired them up near the washing machine, then peeled off her coat and hung it on the clothes rack. The pain was almost unbearable as she removed the scarf, which had glued itself to her face in the rain. For a moment, she thought she would faint, but slowly the burn subsided to a dull throb.

It was quiet inside except for the sound of rain on the roof. The house felt calm, though Miki did not. She was cold, shivering, her clothes wet, her head filled with worry about Leon and Kurt. She lingered at the laundry door, not quite bold enough to go in. Somehow it seemed wrong to impose, even though she’d been given permission. She’d never been in anyone else’s house before. But she couldn’t stand there all day. After stripping down to her underpants, she carried the clothes rack through to the lounge room, tiptoeing on the cream-coloured carpet, then set the rack in front of the gas heater and switched it on.

Geraldine had said to use her dressing-gown, and now Miki went to find it, creeping tentatively through the house. Everything was neat and fresh-smelling, like washing powder and soap. The kitchen was small and tidy; no dishes on the sink, everything wiped and put away, just like at home. On the table, the newspaper was folded as if it hadn’t been read, and even the fruit in the bowl was neat.

Miki slunk through to the bedroom. Geraldine had a double bed, and on the bedside table sat a reading lamp, a packet of mints and a pair of reading glasses on top of a book. The bed was neatly made with a folded mohair blanket on it, and Geraldine’s slippers were on the floor peeping from under the bedspread. The dressing-gown hung from a hook behind the door—it was pale pink with red roses like the ones in the garden. Shivering, Miki put it on. The bathroom was old but clean, like at the shop, but with a nice deep bath. Miki took a towel from the linen press in the hallway and showered to warm up as Geraldine had instructed. She kept her head bowed so she wouldn’t have to look at her face in the mirror. Everything felt swollen and wrong. If she saw her reflection she might cry and the tears would sting the grazed skin.

Afterwards, wrapped in the dressing-gown, Miki sat in the lounge room facing the street. She was edgy, waiting for something to happen, but she wouldn’t know anything until Geraldine came home, and who knew when that would be?