12
Esther collected her chicken salad from the staffroom fridge and went out the back door of the physiotherapy department. She took a plastic chair from the stack and joined a group of four therapists. Such a glorious spring day shouldn’t be wasted inside.
“What are you doing on the weekend?”
That was the standard question in a group of Australians who worked together. Even the answers were predictable. Parties and the outdoors for singles, attending sport and videos for the families.
“And you, Esther?”
“Mostly at home with my grandmother. I’ll tackle the garden if the weather stays fine.”
“You need to get a life,” the newest employee said.
Esther shrugged. “I’m recovering from cancer. By the weekend, I’m barely hanging in there.”
The therapist flushed. “Sorry, I didn’t know. Your
