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The Escape Plan

August 2nd, 2010 by the_lifer

Sunday, Wellington was hammered by vile weather. Shops were quiet while Facebook and TradeMe hummed.

Woodrow the Weta contractor, didn’t really notice – he was working – but he does take periodic breaks. Little does he know he’s messaging Willow.

Wazzer the bar manager wishes to God she didn’t have to work tonight. However, she is expecting half the staff to skive off – the problem with being in charge is that she can’t. Either it’s going to be dead in the bar, as people take shelter from the weather, or  it’s going to be insane as people run away from their cabin fever.

Amongst the older, more sedate demographic, Wilhelmina is working on a quilt. Wilson is watching sports.

Meanwhile, in Lower Hutt, despite the spaciousness of her Hutt house, Wilhelmina’s daughter Helena is at the end of her rope. Her young boys have been learning about dinosaurs and are currently playing Mass Extinction in the living room. This involves shrieking, growling, and jumping off all available furniture. Helena’s urgings that they need to “play dead better…you don’t look really dead, darling” are going unheeded.

The time has come to plan The Escape. They’ve had enough of the Wellington winter. Two years ago, they went to Disneyworld in August; last year, they went to Fiji when a coup made it cheap. This year, with the recession and all, they are still not inclined to splash out so hugely.  “What about Melbourne? First weekend in September?” her husband Henry says.

Helena gives him a knowing look.

Henry grins, guiltily. “AFL finals. Good fun for the boys. If you come with me to one of the boxes, you’ll have to dress up like it’s the Melbourne Cup.”

Helena is tempted, instantly picturing herself in a saucy hat and a pink dupioni silk sheath, flute of “bubbly” in hand. “But what about the boys?”

“Maybe your sister Win could come, too? If we get a flat in Melbourne for a week, easy enough to bring her along.”

Helena approves of this. “I’m sure she won’t mind looking after the kids a few evenings. And we could have a few girls’ days.”

“Just what I was thinking.” They exchange a kiss and a squeeze.

Then they realize they have had ten minutes of quiet uninterrupted conversation, and peer into the living room, warily.

One sibling is smothering the other under every possible sofa cushion.

“I’m fossilizing him, Mummy! Look!”

ADMIN NOTE: Bonus post to help catch up the plot! Another post in 1 hour.

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