She had refused to move to Australia. It hadn’t been an easy decision, though she’d made it almost instantly. The question had surprised her, coming out of the blue; it had made her feel conventional, square, because she knew immediately that she needed to say no.
“I tried to consider it, tried not to answer out of lazy prejudice,” she told herself, but to be honest the energy exuding from Philip had frightened her. (A man on fire would have to result in burns, surely?)
As she walked, Ava thought about how he had rattled on and on about change, as though it were something to be desired, something to be sought after. She had made a tentative move, had asked, “When would we go?” and had been startled when he suggested the very next week.
“Just to look around, you know, to check it out,” he’d said. “Just to see…”