Fait Accompli

Let us join Pliny and her mum, who are going to the first Lunch Hour Concert of the semester.

They meet in David Jones, near some weird knitted jerkins. Look at this one, says Pliny's mum. Wouldn't it be lovely and warm! Pliny, in spite of feeling rather hot, agrees.

They decide to have lunch at the Adelaide University Staff Club, so they hurry across the road, and down the steps on the wrong side of the Elder Hall. Careful of the steps. They enter the brown professorial ambience of the staff club and order a sandwich. They carry the sandwiches over to the bar to order a drink. Now their hands are full and they know that they won't be able to open the door to the patio. They wait until someone is going out and trust that he will not let the door go in their faces as another old gentleman once did. He doesn't. Outside, they sit under an umbrella and try to stop their paper doilies from blowing away in the wind. They do.

At last they are at the concert sitting in their seats. The hall is packed. Some fool has advertised it on the radio. Kristian Chong is playing Chopin nocturnes on the piano. Chopin is 200 years old this month, and still going strong. He writes a good nocturne. Kristian wears a long black coat and plays expressively, sensitively, romantically, sending us into a nocturnal trance. From there it is not far to fall into a state of sleep which most of us do, in various positions. Head up, head down, head lolling to one side.

It is seven dollars for a Chopin-induced kip, in a beautiful and acoustically perfect hall. Not bad value we think. We awake refreshed. We exit through the side doors and down the steps. Hearing jets in the sky, we look up. It is the Clipsal 500 jets. We sit down and watch the jets doing tricks in the sky. We haven't even paid for this. It's good.

Then we go back across King William Street to the card shop under David Jones. It is Ashley's birthday soon. She will be 12. She likes horses. Pliny's mum chooses a black card with a gold Pegasus on the front. I don't think I could do better than this, she says. You could, thinks Pliny, it's black.

Lastly they go to a chemist to get a prescription filled for Pliny's mum. While they are waiting Pliny's mum goes off to look at corn plasters. Pliny looks at fake designer sunnies. She sees a pair she likes. They have silver snake hinges and Chinese tiger sides. She decides to buy them. Rather than ask her mum's opinion she presents her with a fait accompli.