I roll my eyes. “But why are you out here?”

She looks around her. “Looks pretty good, doesn’t it?”

I look at her backyard. It does. The jungle’s been whipper-snipped to within an inch of its life; big wet clumps of grass lie in piles across the yard. There’s even a birdbath the size of a small child in there. The smell of freshly massacred green is overwhelming. That and the fumes coming from her house. I’m glad of it as I hang propped by my forearms over the fence. Between that and the blood and bone, there’s not much room for other smells.

“What’s with the outdoor furniture?”

“The house is having plastic surgery. They’ve scrubbed it down, melted off the wallpaper, sealed it with one coat of paint and are about to add another. Latex paint! I’ve got rubber walls now. And they’ve even got a floor sander that vacuums as it sands. No dust. Painting and sanding at the same time.” She shakes her head. “They reckon they’ll have the first layer of sealant on the floor before they leave this evening.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Yep. They’ve been at it all day. Using some pretty heavy-duty chemicals. Takes a while for the fumes to clear. So I could be out here all night.”

“Oh.” I’m interrupted by a white-suited mask-face peering out the back door. I drop back down and leave them to it.

Splints snuffles at my feet. He didn’t get a walk yesterday. I sniff. I don’t want to get that close to him. I also don’t want to hang out the back of the house any longer than I have to. “I’m not bathing you again.” He shoves his nose into my crotch. “Right. You asked for it.”

I clip on his lead and head out the front, hook the lead over the side fence and turn on the hose. Anyone would think I’m trying to kill him. I give him a good spray. Some of the cleaners stop to watch, grinning with their masks hanging under their chins. I give them a tight smile and hurry up. Splints waits till I’m untying him from the fence to shake. There’s a sympathetic laugh from next door. Now we’re both wet. And a bit smelly. And the center of attention. I pull him out the front gate. We walk past Oscar and his mum pulling up in their car. I pretend not to notice and head to the dog park, the shadow-rat gnawing away gleefully at my insides.

THE DOG PARK’S pretty empty. I let Splints off for a run around and find a corner in the sun to sit and watch, trying to ignore the feeling of impending doom. I’ve got a week, maybe less, till a ton of stuff steamrolls over the top of me. I reckon I’ve got till Sunday before Lettie starts trying to call you herself. And that’s not even thinking about Lucy nosing about, or school excursions, or bills or rent. I lean back into the fence. I’m tired. Tired like if I close my eyes I might sink back through my head and melt into the fence tired. I rub at my eyes and focus on staying awake. I wonder how conspicuous it’d be if I just let my eyes shut and napped here. Just for a little bit.