Laura looks across at Cooper again, at the multiple dressings that form the shape of her son, that cover the infinitely fragile tenderness in the process of becoming skin. How could he ever be ready?

Tara gently touches her arm. Excuse me now, will you? I need to talk to Cooper, get to know him, let him get to know me a bit. It’s … not easy, being measured.

From the other side of the glass, Laura watches Tara. She can’t hear what she’s saying to Cooper, but there’s a warmth about her, an air of reassurance. Respect. The curtains are drawn around Cooper’s bed, and it dawns on her: the vulnerability involved in being measured. The full exposure.

24

Avril

The phone rings. Pascale. A wrinkle of guilt. She’d meant to phone her sister as soon as she got home, to tell her the news.

Tucking the phone between shoulder and ear, she pushes down the button on the kettle and up-ends a near-empty box of teabags.

They want to keep the trach tube in for a bit longer but Dr Nguyen’s going to change it for another kind that will let him talk. If his vocal cords aren’t too damaged, that is. He won’t sound like Coop but he’ll be able to communicate.

His voice will be different, you mean? Why?

Avril pushes back her fringe and frowns. It’s to do with how much air passes across the vocal cords. Something like that.

Like people with cancer who speak through those box-things?

No, just hoarse, I think. Raspy.

Mmm.

It means the investigation into the fire can be finished. They’ve been waiting to talk to Coop.

Av? What’s wrong?

She’s twisting her hair into rat tails. I don’t know. Just … there’s something they’re not saying. And the guys from the station, even Ben, they haven’t been to the hospital in ages.

Look, stop worrying, OK? There are more important things.

Yeah. But both of them know it’s not as simple as that.

A pause. Pascale is building up to something. Listen, Av, how’re you doing for cash? You OK?

She manages a half-smile. It’s always been this way, Pascale looking out for her. We’re OK. Coop’s covered through the fund. His wages are still going in. For now, anyway.

But you’re not working, are you, not your usual hours, I mean. No-one’s covering you …

We’re managing. The mortgage’s being met, that’s the main thing.

Must be costing you a fortune in petrol, too, driving up to the city every day.

Petrol and parking, but that’s about all. She knows it’s a mistake as soon as the words are out.

Hmph. Doesn’t sound like you’re eating! Avril, listen to me——

Sis, stop worrying. But thanks. Love you.