Ben had been so happy Up North, just the two of them, that he even told Gordon he had met a boy. Ben had come out a year ago, but in Bluebird it had been a theoretical matter; he’d seemed as far from meeting a boy as he had seemed, when they thought he was straight, from meeting a girl. But Up North, for four days there had been shared volunteer bushland regeneration work, campfires and moonlit walks. It brought Gordon to tears when Ben made his confession. Boys his age didn’t tell their fathers things like that. For all the swings of Ben’s condition, the roundabout was the delayed onset of adolescent disillusionment with his father. A significant roundabout it was, in the circumstances.

‘I could never leave you and everyone,’ Gordon said, trying not to feel hurt by the suggestion. He leant forward and tried to hug Ben, who turned sideways, making an authentic hug impossible. Pre and post diagnosis, Gordon had persisted with his attempts to exchange bodily warmth. Ben’s aversion didn’t matter to Gordon; it was the trying that counted. Gordon had applied the same philosophy with Kelly, who didn’t like his hugs either. Maybe she had some brand of ADHD too, and all that was needed to save their marriage was an amphetamine prescription. Whatever. Failing with Kelly didn’t mean he had to stop hugging Ben.

‘You all need me too much,’ he said into the bristling crown of Ben’s head.

Ben mumbled something.

‘What’s that, mate?’

‘When’s Mum home?’

Gordon gave a shrug as non sequitur-ish as the question. Ben was asking when his mother got home as if this were a normal event for a normal family. But when Kelly arrived ‘home’, if that was what The Lodge was, Gordon would, by agreement, make himself scarce. By the unspoken terms of their new disposition, they could spend time together as pairs but not as a trio. To pretend to be a family would confuse Ben. All those other people blowing in and out of the house papered over and accentuated the awkwardness, among those people the lingering bad smell who was the prime cause of their troubles.

‘Want to join us upstairs?’ Gordon asked, knowing that the best way to get Ben to focus on his homework was to offer a poorer alternative.

‘Wait, what?’

‘Want to join—’

‘Are all the people hanging around?’ Ben cut in.

‘Just the dregs.’

‘I’ve got so much work.’

‘No worries, I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.’