An angry sun was lighting the eastern horizon from beneath the sea. Kelly went up the passageway past Archer David’s house, which was empty, even the robot lights disconnected. A little like herself. She picked up the free weekly paper, the Saturday-delivered Daily, now so slender you could use it to pick your teeth. She read most of it while standing on the path. She bore a dull resentment towards the Daily for still existing, four years after the end of Gordon’s beloved News, even if it was limping along as a kind of student paper, owned neglectfully by a multinational conglomerate, written and edited by unpaid interns. The paper’s innards were held together by what must have been the last print display ads in western civilisation, all real estate except for one furniture shop run by an ancient retailer called Harry Love who must have believed this internet thingy was a passing fad.

Front and back pages carried a serviceable tabloid version of the previous weekend’s surf carnival. Despite being late (hence its nickname, the Weakly-Daily), it covered the key events—the crash between Bluebird, Capri and Manly in the surfboat race, the winners of the beach sprints—with the breathlessness of being first on the scene, if not the first into print. Kelly’s eye fell on a photograph of Michael Abottemey with Daniel, in cricket clothes, smiling for the camera. There was nothing about Daniel’s role in the fight. It must have been in, and then edited out, but they’d forgotten to remove the photo and its caption, which said: Happier times.

‘Hey.’

Kelly looked up from the newspaper to see Lou crawl out from under the StairLift.

‘Just about got it working,’ Lou said.

‘You’ve been on it all night?’

‘I’m desperate to finish it before I leave this arvo.’

‘Gordon can finish it for you.’

‘Pfft. He’s not up yet? Still brooding on the future down in those Bluebird deeps?’

Kelly could feel Lou searching her face for information she didn’t want to hear. She shook her head.

‘He spent the night at the firehouse.’

‘Guess I’ll get back to work,’ Lou said.

‘You know you’re welcome to stay on.’

Lou seemed ready to say something, but at that moment Cnut stumbled up the stairs, his only acknowledgment of either Kelly or Lou the profanity he let out when he nearly tripped on Lou’s foot. Where had he come from? Had he been sleeping in some corner of The Lodge? Kelly thought: If Lou changed her mind and decided to stay, I would talk her out of it.

‘I’ll go get Ben moving,’ Kelly said. ‘You still coming to his cricket match?’