~ 16 ~
ReadingTiny ants swarm over Cassie’s hand. She flicks them off. Athena’s house has no clocks. Not because, Athena claims, there is anything wrong with clocks—some people need them. Cassie for instance needs some precise measure of time to ensure she catches the school bus at 7.35am, or thereabouts, each morning. Athena and her father, needing to be nowhere at any particular time, could allow the day to lead them, rather than any measure of where the big hands are on a clock face. That is all well and good for Athena, but less pleasing for Cassie with ants crawling on her fingers, the damp ground wetting the bum of her shorts and the humidity squeezing sweat from her brow, her armpits, behind her knees, even the soles of her feet. The imprecise measure of ‘Sunday after lunch’ meant
