‘Dorset is bigger than you think Ginny.’
‘Fritz is living there.’
‘So?’
‘So, he might know where my father is.’
‘Ginny, drop it. Your father disappeared. That’s all anyone knows. We’d do better to think about the exhibition.’
Ginny couldn’t understand why her mother always changed the subject with one of her ridiculous smiles, lips pressed together and stretched out, slightly downturned at the corners. She wondered at what Harriet was aiming to achieve with an expression that made her look like a goanna in pain.
She recoiled inwardly every time her mother put on that face, and each time her reaction grew stronger. One day, the wind will change, she thought. But it was more than that. The smile was a form of closure, a zipper on whatever had gone before. Those lips would fasten shut,
