At the school gates, the news of Christina Allen’s death had been met with great shock and even greater speculation, for the circumstances of her passing had not been disclosed.
Later on, at the book club, the three women take a break from drinking wine to discuss the event.
-I’m really sorry to have to ask but who’s Christina Allen? Is it someone we know?
-Yes. The school treasurer. Slightly older lady with the short hair.
-Oooh that lady.
-Yes that lady.
-Boy she was a busy bee wasn’t she? Bless her.
-I’m not sure who you mean? Is she the twin’s mum? The one with the botox?
-Yes, that’s right.
-I wonder if it was booze. Do you remember the school fair? She was quite pissed. Bless her.
-How old are the twins?
-They’re 7, like Ethan. They all went to nursery together.
-Is that it? Wow she did leave it late to have them. Bless them.
At the morgue, the mangled remains of Christina Allen awaits to be formerly identified by her husband of 25 years.
She had been rushing to pick up the twin boys she had so eagerly wanted during the decade it took to conceive them and had accidentally missed a stop sign, colliding head first into a speeding bus.