Friday, 10th August

The scent of pipe tobacco and almond oil shaving soap still lingers in the air but Lydia is not ready to have the room cleaned, not yet. She was rarely permitted to enter the hallowed study when it belonged to her father. An academic at Adelaide University, he passed most of his time in his study, thick textbooks and fat cigars his preferred company. Besides an occasional pat on the head, his lonely daughter was rarely the object of his frugal affections. Little wonder Lydia’s mother chose to live by the sea in her Port Adelaide summer residence. When Lydia’s father died Eric took over the study and the room became less cloistered, although a closed door always signified ‘no entry’. Once, seeing the door wide open, she entered expecting to find Eric busy at his desk or sprawled on his daybed, instead she was greeted by a terse note on a large sheet of paper:Home soon darling, gone out on business. Wondering why he’d be conducting business at six o’clock in the evening, it occurred to her that his business dealings were increasingly being managed after hours, at times well into the night. For the first time in their marriage she searched his study for signs of a secret life. She noticed a trace of purple behind a pile of grey files beneath his desk and crouched down to take a closer look. The files frantically cast aside revealed a quilted box which she placed on the desk. Her heart thumping, she debated whether she should look i