A throbbing pain erupted inside Nash’s skull. Cornered by Douglas’s need, he felt trapped within his own home, simultaneously aware that its shelter was fleeting, that soon all its memories of Natalie would be gone, repossessed by the bank, and he couldn’t do anything about it because inside him there was fucking nothing left.

Nash got up unsteadily. ‘I need you to go, Frank.’

‘Aw, come on, Robbie. Let’s talk it through.’

‘I said go!’ Nash erupted. ‘What, are you fucking deaf, too?’

Watching Douglas leave, stiff and hunched, part of Nash wanted to call him back to apologise. He hadn’t wanted to send a wrecking ball through a lifelong relationship, but the old guy was never going to understand.

Needing to clear his head, Nash went down to the river and waded in. With no destination in mind, he swam upriver, the brackish high tide giving way to fresh water. Here the river was shallow, in summer often retreating to pools. He swam on, losing himself in the river’s gentle flow. Gliding over tangles of paperbark limbs, pygmy perch scattered while schools of minnows, confident in their diminutive scale, darted around him, picking off dislodged food particles. A marron waved a claw and thought better of it. Hauling himself onto a rock, Nash listened to the wind rustling through the tall karri on the ridge. Sometimes, he and Natalie had come up here for picnics. If you went far enough, and were prepared to wade through the rocky sections, you could lose the tourist kayaks, leave it all behind.

When he got back to the house it was dusk. Jacquie’s VW was in the drive and he felt sick with guilt. Frank would have turned up at her place in a mess.

She was sitting on the deck in a fleecy jacket, arms wrapped around herself even though it wasn’t cold.

‘Where were you?’ she asked without looking at him. ‘I’ve been sitting here for hours.’

‘In the river . . . I don’t know.’ She must have seen the bills on the table. And having spoken to Frank, she would know what he had just turned down. Clearing his throat, he said, ‘Look, Jac, I’m going to get my shit together. I just need a bit more time.’

She nodded without conviction. ‘The thing is, it’s not just about you anymore.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’ve been diagnosed with cancer.’ She turned to face him, and her eyes were dull with pain. ‘It’s ovarian.’

‘What?’ He stared at her in disbelief. ‘Isn’t that . . .?’

‘Rare?’ Jacquie breathed out slowly. ‘I thought it was gluten intolerance. Lucky the specialist bothered to check. Rob, it’s stage three.’