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Welcome back from Easter everyone.

Did you read any of the 27 kilos of books and papers you insisted on taking?

No? Nor did Adelaide.

If I had to be anyone at a wedding, Adelaide thought, I’d always be the sister-in-law.

She walked towards the ball she had accidentally-on-purpose hit just a bit too hard so it flew over the heads of the boys, left their circle of grass, travelled along the path and landed not too far from the fountain where the wedding had just begun.

At weddings, Adelaide thought, sisters-in-law are unencumbered by expectation. They can wear a sensible frock (in autumn even brides should wear sleeves). Sisters-in-law are not forced into shades of green which make them feel dizzy or shades of red which make them look sickly pale. They do their own make-up and no one pushes their hair into shapes that immobilise the head.

There is nothing important that a sister-in-law can forget.

Sisters-in-law stand to the side with a child on their hip and a flute of champagne in their hand. They can taste the champagne and it does not rush straight to their knees in a dangerous way.

In photographs – including the one that’s just her and her husband and their child all of them looking relaxed and well-dressed – sisters-in-law wear glorious smiles.

Adelaide picked up the ball, pulled her jacket closer around herself. Someone really should have thought to bring jumpers for the boys.

‘Is it just me, or did Dalziel and Pascoe get worse?’ Adelaide asked the mister. She was trying to lose weight, so she took the wine, but declined more chocolate.

‘No. It’s always been this shit,’ he said and scoffed another six blocks.

If Adelaide had not turned the corner to avoid the dog, she would never have seen the woman in pearls rummaging through the playground bin.

‘Was she wearing gloves?’ the mister asked.

Question: How many lovers does it take to ruin an unexected opportunity to watch Survivor (the greatest reality show ever made)?

Answer: Just the one. But he has to be running around putting children to bed, clanging the dishes a bit too loud, then walking past with another load of washing ready to be hung out.

‘Guilt is such an unproductive emotion,’ Adelaide said when they were seated quite close together on the lounge later on. She was happy, but she was still frighteningly close to a snarl. ‘I wonder whether that’s what it feels like to be a more…traditional man?’ Adelaide said. ‘Maybe it’s not that great just sitting on the lounge at the end of they day letting people wait on you.’ She sniffed, then took another bite of the chocolate rabbit the mister’s PA had sent home for the kids. ‘Or maybe it’s something you can push through.’

‘I’ll ask around for you,’ Adelaide’s mister said. ‘I’ll try and find out.’

They gave each other a tender look before Adelaide took the remote and turned the television up. She wasn’t going to miss that little tinkly piece of music they played when they extinguished the flame for anything.

Adelaide’s youngest child was one of those three year olds who was constantly asking why. Endearing in small doses, it drove Adelaide and her husband, and her father and her parents-in-law around the bend. But if Adelaide’s little boy didn’t ask why, these are some of the things Adelaide would never have known:

1. the man in the post office was a soldier who had indeed flown in the helicopters which occasionally circled Adelaide’s house. His combat fatigues were often mistaken for pyjamas and if you looked at the patterns carefully you would see love hearts and Mickey Mouse ears.
2. the woman looking at the toothpaste in the supermarket cleans her teeth twice a day. Her toothbrush is red and does not have pictures of Winnie the Pooh. She does not use a cup to rinse the toothpaste from her mouth. She eats toast for breakfast and is intending to lose weight.
3. the young man at the bottle shop has a silver thing in his tongue because he likes how it feels. You have to be an adult to get a silver thing in your tongue. You would have to go to hospital if you swallowed it.
4. the man behind the counter at the newsagent eats sandwiches for lunch. He buys them from the bakery down the street. He has juice with his sandwich and coffee in the afternoons.
5. the man in the cafe wearing white socks and brown leather sandals got the cuts on his legs from diving for abalone over the weekend. He gave the abalone to a friend who is sick. His friend did not go in an ambulance, but he has had x-rays. When the man goes to work he does autopsies.

At which point, Adelaide stepped in.

Adelaide returned to her computer after a glorious week across the seas – Kangaroo Island – to find 102 emails in one inbox, 13 in another.

And not one of them likely to change her life.

Adelaide had the kind of husband who was giving her bunches of tulips one day, then casting nasturtiums on her housekeeping skills the next.

Like John Howard, Adelaide is completely reassured by the Chinese premier’s statement that the uranium China buys from Australia – indeed, South Australia – will be used only for perfectly peaceful purposes in perfectly safe facilities. As uranium always is.

And even as you read, Adelaide is sitting on a plane to New York with her children, hoping they can be included in the asthma vaccine trials and be given daily doses of dust mites and cat fur.

Dear Dad

Isn’t it funny that being a Sturt supporter for all those years has stood me in such good stead for following the Power from Port?

Love, Adelaide

PS Pass the message on to my brother too.