24 February

I wake up at noon, to find that Etcetra has already left the house. I am mad, mad, mad at Ogre for letting her go.

Me: “But doesn’t she need to explain? Did she tell you why she didn’t turn up last night, without so much as a phone call?”

Ogre: “She said she was caught up with something unavoidable. And her battery died out on her.”

Me: “And that’s it? There was no one around her, whose phone she could use for a minute?”

Ogre shrugs: “Apparently not. She didn’t say where she was, or with whom.”

Me, incredulous: “And you didn’t ask?”

Ogre: “I did, Appi. But she said she couldn’t tell me. She was sorry that she hadn’t called, and that we were worried …. ”

I snort: “Yes, worried!”

Ogre ignores me and continues: “But she said she had been all right. Just something that she had to do.”

I shake my head disbelievingly: “I just don’t know how you give Etcetra so much rope. You let her get away with everything.”

Ogre: “It’s not such a big deal, Appi. Granted we were worried, and granted she should have called. But sometimes things do happen, something else at the moment is more important, and you forget to call. It’s not as if it’s a habit with her. She’s usually quite particular.”

I refuse to answer.

Ogre: “She’s young, Appi. But I know Etcetra. I trust her. She can take care of herself. Don’t let your worry for her become anger. It will only alienate her further.”

Ogre goes off into the kitchen to make some breakfast, or rather lunch for me. I think about what Ogre has said. But somehow, my anger will just not go away.


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