5:09 PM

They had bought the house when the children were eleven and fourteen.

Five bedrooms.

A garden.

A dining table that could seat twelve.

At the time it had felt like finally having enough space.

Now one bedroom was a gym neither of them used.

One was storage.

Their daughter's room still had books from secondary school.

Their son's cupboard contained three shirts he had left behind when he moved to Melbourne.

The agent had called that morning.

The market was good.

If they were thinking of downsizing, this would be a sensible time.

Her husband didn't want to rush.

Neither did she.

They stood in the upstairs hallway.

"We could keep it for when everyone comes back," he said.

She looked into their daughter's room.

"She stays in a hotel when she comes back."

"Only because it's closer to her friends."

"I know."

They went downstairs.

The dining table was covered with unopened mail.

She ran her hand across one of the chairs.

"Who are we keeping all these rooms for?"