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‘Looks a bit rich, hon!’ he commented genially, then looked over at her. She appeared not to have heard him at all, or even noticed his presence, but continued to train her fixed and fascinated attention on the suave chef as he slowly, sensually spread and swirled the many sticky, alluring substances over the cake. There was no doubt at all what interested her at that moment, certainly it wasn’t him. Thoughtfully, he left.
Later he asked, “You’re not thinking of making that, are you, Peta? That cake? It’d cost a fortune”.
She answered slowly, “No, no, it was just an idea for you and the boys. Of course I won’t do it”. And she went to the kitchen to boil some left-over chicken bones for stock, as she fiercely hated waste.
But she actually continued to think about the rich Austrian cake for some days, filed the recipe away, it would be something to make for her own children, perhaps, one day, far in the future. It might seem that she had conceived an ongoing, possibly lifelong role for herself as caterer/nourisher on the home front, like her provider/father did through his job. The world beyond the kitchen, and, to a lesser extent, the TV room, began to recede, her life became intensely concentrated, it shrank.
School, speaking of that, began to change too. Until her mother’s departure Peta had seemed to all appearance a normal young girl – however that may be defined – but twelve months later her teachers had noticed a few things. Academically she had never been outstanding, but her steady application ensured she passed well enough, and that had continued. However, when it came to physical education, she began to show a marked reluctance to join in, and quite easily accepted that for team sports she was now, almost automatically, the last person chosen by her exasperated captain. Without a doubt she had gained weight in the past few months, her movements were heavier, slower, older.
But it went further. Not merely her ability but her wish to move, to go out of herself, was visibly less, something which drew the concern of her friends.
‘Hey Peta’, said Tyla one day, ‘are you coming to the mall with us next Saturday?’ Peta’s dad and brothers were going fishing early, and Tyla knew Peta would be available. But she wasn’t.
‘Ah no… think I’ll do some stuff at home, get some food ready for the others’, Peta replied uneasily.