“‘Of course I’m going in! I need to tell people to look for him. They might let me talk at assembly,’ she says, throwing on her uniform. ‘Hang on!’ I yell, chasing after her with the first packed lunch I’ve prepared in years. ‘Stand at the door with this.’ The lunch box is new, blue, and impressive, with containers inside for fruit, and a clip on the side for a non-sugary drink. ‘Smile!’ I say, holding the camera. ‘I really don’t feel like smiling,’ she says, and shuts the door behind her. I pri...nt the smileless photo and stick it in the scrapbook – proof that I am the kind of mother who makes lunch from scratch and packs it neatly into a nifty blue box. Phil’s already texted me twice. I ring him on his mobile. ‘Yeah, we’re okay. In shock.’ ‘I’ve not gone in yet. I’ll take the day off.’ ‘No, no need. I’ve got things to do. I’ll see you for lunch – The Lemon Tree?’ ‘Okay, twelve thirty. Let me know if you want me to come over before then.’ I go for a run to clear my head then meet Phil at the café round the corner from Melbourne University in Carlton, where he works as a physics lecturer.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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