Part of me wants to sprint for the front window, but a more sensible part knows the mob wouldn’t be this quiet if they’d found her. Still I look up with hope as the adults come in. Mum’s tense face and Uncle’s cap, pulled down so low I can’t see his eyes, tell me everything. Taking deep breaths to push back sobs while I clear up the table, I focus on stacking the rows of patty cakes ready for icing.

‘Dinner’ll be ready soon,’ I say.

There’s a pause and a shuffle as Uncle’s boots go for the back door, before thin, warm arms envelope me from behind. A brief kiss to the head and she’s gone.

‘Thanks, daught. You been cookin up a storm, ay?’ Her back is to me as she checks the veggies but she’s going for normal.

‘Figured we’d have a mob to feed.’

‘Good thinkin. Should this pumpkin be on?’

‘Yeah, if the oven’s ready. The cream needs thickenin for the patty cakes too.’

Mum gets the pumpkin sorted then throws herself into the cream like she’s possessed. Whipping it by hand is something she did because no one else is womba enough to want to do it without an electric hand mixer. Of course, you have to own one to use one.

Rhi sits, watching us with concern. We ignore her.

It’s so painful in here it’s like the air holds daggers that prick and stab depending on how fast you move. Thank God the cousins come pouring in.

‘Yum, cuz, did ya do those chocolate ones again?’

Craig grabs for a patty cake and I smack his fingers with the spoon I’m using to mix the icing. ‘Oi! Wait for the cream and icing.’

He gives me his best hurt puppy eyes while licking icing off of his hand and I relent. ‘Uncle’s out the back, you want a cuppa with it?’

That broad grin splits his dark face. ‘Yeah, white with three sugars, cuz, you the best.’

He’s gone before the others start shouting out their tea orders. The men all head to the back while the women stay in the kitchen. Aunties pull out teacups and all the necessaries, cousins grab plates and cutlery and cart them to the old chipboard table Mum has set up out the back. Cream whipped, cakes covered and placed on plates with biscuits from the cupboard. There’s a procession downstairs. I grab a drink and a patty cake and find my usual spot on the stairs, a bit closer to the bottom this time so I can talk to people. Everyone is spread out yarning, but it’s quieter than it would normally be with the mob around.