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Vic swept past him, a gas bill in her mouth and a bag of laundry in her arms, the cordless phone nestled between her shoulder and ear. She gave him a wink and continued talking while his daughters continued to sing and dance in the lounge room, oblivious to his entry.
Dressed in her housework tracksuit that was pink, linty, and worn, she walked barefoot, instructing Helen’s mother over the phone.
“Manoula, it is Google, not giggle. Just go to the search tab and type in Lefkada. Yes, the west coast of Greece.”
Vic joined him at the kitchen bench as he was going through his mail and gave him a peck on the cheek. She smelt of laundry detergent. She told him that Angelo and Sophia were in Melbourne visiting Angelo’s brother, who was in hospital with a broken hip. He had fallen off a lad
