At this new property a similar pattern developed. As men came and went, neighbours gracefully turned a blind eye. The less they look, the better. Some did it for their own sake, not to be tempted; some others because they simply didn’t approve and preferred to pretend they didn’t know what was going on behind closed doors.
It was evident that people would turn their faces away, pretending to be looking at the trees, the ground, the dog or whatever, instead of greeting her.
She would come closer to her neighbours to try to make contact, presenting herself with a pleasing, friendly smile. It wouldn’t work. Once ignored, she usually would smirk and lower her gaze, but she kept trying. Did she enjoy this?
On Monday, when she arrived at her office, there was a gathering around the TV. She joined in. She could see the impact the breaking news had in her colleagues’ faces. Third murdered person in the last month, police had no clue and relatives of the victims were demanding justice.
‘Pretty shocking, huh?’ A colleague said.
‘Horrendous! Why do we have to be the murder capital city? Goodness!’
‘I know!’ someone else replied. ‘Come to Adelaide, they say.’
Sarah, the Director, addressed the gathering: ‘Now that everyone is up to date, please let’s start our day. As you all know, we have a very special client visiting today and we need to be running smoothly. I appreciate everyone’s input.’
Very quickly they dispersed.
‘Sophia, can you please come to my office?’
‘Of course! The presentation is ready,’ Sophia said confidently, with a beautiful smile of satisfaction.
A few pair of eyes discreetly followed the rhythmic walking of Sophia in her leather pencil skirt.
The two women disappeared behind the lift door.
Burnside Writers Group 