‘What had to happen?’

‘To The Lodge.’

‘Yep. You’re sorry.’

They hugged across the centre console. When Gordon drew away, he saw tears in Sam’s eyes. The last of the Eastaughs. Sam waited until Gordon had stepped out of the car and was about to close the passenger door when he said, ‘You know what makes me real sad?’

‘What’s that?’

Gordon bent down to the window. Sam had put on a pair of reading glasses and was peering significantly at Gordon over the rims. Tony’s reading glasses. Gordon felt a bubble of laughter rising in his chest.

‘If we still had a volunteer fire brigade,’ Sam said, ‘it could have saved the joint.’

Jada was at the reception desk of Banksia floor when Gordon arrived, feeling drained from the funeral and his heart-to-heart with Sam. Her luminous smile lifted him like an amusement park ride. Amazing that a show of human teeth could have this power.

‘I’m sorry, your father has been moved from this floor.’

‘Oh?’

‘He’s on Acacia.’

Jada escorted Gordon into the lift, and squeezed his elbow sympathetically as the doors opened at the Alzheimer’s floor. An elderly woman in a dressing-gown sat in a chair in the lobby holding out a donations jar for the Salvation Army. A man in his pyjamas was laughing uproariously while being wrestled down the corridor by two burly staff. In the distance was a cacophony of shouting. Terror, only terror.

‘It’s very confronting,’ Jada said.

‘Does he have to be here?’

‘It was a condition of the court hearing,’ Jada said. ‘There were phone calls this morning, and he was moved.’

Tim Phelan, the duty magistrate at the Capri courthouse, had spoken with Norma, the police and the nursing home management. Norma wanted Ron in the nursing home, but due to fears of escape, it was negotiated that he be accommodated on Acacia floor where, even though he did not suffer from the disease, the restraint facilities could be utilised.

In a corner of the lobby, Norma sat in an armchair, reading the Weakly-Daily. When she saw Gordon she smiled faintly. He noticed in her arms a photo album.

Gordon read the spine. ‘FAMILY HOLIDAYS 1979–83. You brought it in?’