She unplugged the phone to sever another level of communication, to further isolate herself from any situation that might increase the likelihood of a conflict. Ever since Elizabeth's accident the tension between their families and each other had grow nearly to breaking point. The realization that now things were different, Elizabeth had lost a physical part of herself. For Finlay this became like a force field that she could not go beyond. An emotional barrier that would not permit her to feel the other womans pain. This had been the hallmark of their relationship. Two years ago Finlay had told her parents that she and Elizabeth were lovers.
"Look darling you're very young you've got your whole life ahead of you".
Her mother turned away sobbing into her hands.
He enclosed his wife in the crook of his arm, her face looked as if it was burrowing into his chest or else it was somehow being sucked in, absorbed by a greater power and authority.
"You're trying to destroy us"
She stands in the garden a green hose pipe lays stretched and uncoiled across the lawn. The colours soothe her, the yellows and greens of the tomatoes. Some resting red and swollen on the loamy earth drawing in the last rays of the evening. The leaves of the corn seem to visibly relax themselves and hang like tired arms. The fanned out leaves of dusty purple cabbages, on which slugs have chewed intricate lace-work, are frozen in the scattered light. They resemble huge marzipan roses. The stillness here is comforting, it is not like the eerie calm of a factory that has ceased to function where the machines stand idle with a silence that is sinister and demanding.
It is the tranquility of things growing. Here there is a connectedness, a harmony that effects her self purpose. When she works in the garden the rhythm of the day changes. The forced exhilaration of the city becomes intolerable.
She knows her father has probably tried to call her by now. She resists the urge to plug-in the phone.
