He’d been fearless the whole of his life, diligent, strong. Always disdainful of rules that got in his way when he thought he was doing the right thing. Reckless, Jarrad used to say of their son when he took on bullies at school, never afraid to risk a walloping from older boys, bigger boys. But there’s only a breath between reckless and brave, isn’t there, and in that breath is where you’d always find Cooper.

She goes inside for the bag of peppermints. What’s wrong with this family? First her grandmother, then her uncle. And her mother, who would have followed Steven into the well if she hadn’t been pulled back. And now her son. Is there a gene for sacrifice? It’s like there’s some dark strain of altruism, some ancestral compulsion to rush off a cliff, down a well, into a fire for others. And to hell with the risks.

She shivers. Grunnie, what else did you want to tell me?

She remembers what Gideon had suggested, that it was Meggie who had torn out her last story, the one it had taken her so long to write. Something had occurred to her when Gideon said that. She rummages through the kitchen dresser, third drawer down, yanking it out and turning it upside down on the table to search for an enamel keyring with a Lockwood key. Those missing pages. If they exist—if—there’s only one place they could be.

She glances at the clock, hesitates before picking up the phone.

Gideon answers on the sixth ring. He sounds distracted. What are you doing? she asks.

Making moussaka. I’ve been told it’s deadly, which, according to the grandchild, is a good thing. Give it a try?

When you’ve finished, how would you feel about giving me a hand to shift some furniture?

~

Gideon turns up with the old blue ute, the one he uses for mulch and fertiliser. In case you want to bring anything home.

Don’t think I’ll be needing a ute for what I’m looking for, she says. But thanks. Thanks for everything, Gideon.

He reaches over and rests his hand on hers for the briefest moment and she’s surprised and as fluttery as a bird. Stop it, she tells herself. He’s just being kind. Just being Gideon.

She tells him what Ben said.

Soooo … Cooper’s superiors are probably in a bit of a dilemma because he’s a hero but he’s broken a few rules?

I’m waiting to hear what Cooper has to say about that.

Will there be repercussions? I mean, will it affect his medical insurance, say, if it’s proved he did the wrong thing?

She frowns. I don’t think so. Oh god, I hope not.

So his colleagues are divided?