The horror struck him like a rogue wave on a rocky jump-off. His sister was the healthiest person he’d ever known. It was family lore that she had never missed a day of school. She’d completed her first Rottnest Island swim aged fourteen, beating every girl under eighteen. She’d captained her school at netball, despite being the shortest girl in her year. Her enthusiasm and drive were legendary. She was bulletproof. More importantly, she was the engine, the heart of the family. In short, she was irreplaceable.

He pulled her to him. They held each other and sobbed. When the first rush of grief had passed, Jacquie explained chemo would begin next week. They needed to shrink the tumours down and hopefully she would be operable within a few months. She said her chances were fair, which didn’t sound promising to Nash, but he was in that strange limbo of trying to put a brave face on things, without diminishing their import.

‘It’s Mum and Dad I’m most worried about,’ Jacquie said. ‘This is going to hit them hard.’ She looked up at him. ‘Will you come over there with me tomorrow, Rob?’

Instantly he agreed to pick her up in the morning. When she was ready to head home, he gave her another bear hug by the door, and found himself unable to let go. It was as if he was holding the history of his life in his hands, and he began crying at the thought of losing her, too.

‘I love you so much, sis,’ he breathed at last. ‘Is there anything else I can do to help?’

‘Yes!’ She thumped her balled fists against his powerful chest. ‘Yes, there bloody well is. Get on with being who you were meant to be.’ Freeing herself from his embrace, she laughed. ‘Oh shit, now I’m crying again – I’ve got a Zoom meeting at seven.’ She gave him a kiss and yelped at his bristles. ‘And make sure you shave tomorrow morning. Look human for Mum and Dad, OK? They haven’t seen you in ages.’

As her tail lights disappeared down the road, he bit his lip.

Not Jacquie.

How on earth was it fair that fate might take her before him? It was a travesty. Like this dirty, stinking house.

Standing in the chaos, Nash saw it clearly for the first time. Jacquie’s bombshell had blown away the emotional miasma. His sister was sick, she needed his help. So did his mum and dad.

Ringing Douglas’s number, Nash hoped he was not too late.

The old pilot was half-drunk.

‘Robbie, I’m sorry, kid, I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that.’

‘Frank, it’s OK. I’m sorry, too. Look . . . I am interested. Can I buy you dinner?’