She tried to get down to the coast at least once a week. It was a chance to walk on the beach and swim. Today it had been too windy. Everyone was swimming inside the river mouth instead, crowded along the narrow strip of sand by the parkland. It was also better to see specialists out of town, to avoid any gossip. Her mother, when Jen was small, refused to purchase even head lice treatments at the local chemist, but drove to one several towns away. ‘I don’t want to give them anything more to talk about,’ she’d say. She had grown up in this town, too, so she would know. Since coming back, Jen had heard them for herself, gossiping behind the counter, caught the raised eyebrow as someone came direct from the doctor’s surgery next door with another script for Prozac or Viagra. Her doctor had referred her to the shrink as much for his location as his reputation. Jen pulled over in a cul-de-sac by the river, beneath a straggle of paperbarks. There were flyers stapled to all the power poles, even down here.
