While Harry put my suitcase in the back of the van, I surreptitiously checked my phone one more time. Nothing. I stabbed at Brody’s number and again it went straight to voicemail. I strapped on my seatbelt. Crosscurrents of feeling were pulling me to and fro. This is what it must feel like to be drowning, I realised. As Harry manoeuvred the van onto the road, I discreetly pressed redial five or six more times. Still nothing.

As the van nosed its way into the traffic, Harry chatted on amicably about the kids, the traffic, the weather, the cars – he’d lent mine to Jake, hence the van.

‘So, I’ve stacked the fridge with mangoes, prawns, camembert and lamingtons – the four essential food groups. I’m just so glad you’re home, hon! Jake held a “gathering” just after you went away, because I am the best dad ever, as well as being a pushover. I’m afraid the carpet’s suffered, along with some of the more delicate pot plants, which some of the boys puked their pizza into. Then I had to drop off Zoe to her farewell party before she left for Byron Bay, which turned out to be a bit of a rave and set off a brief and kinda challenging flashback! I had to hurry home to a nice cup of tea and Antiques Roadshow,’ he joked.

As Harry turned the car south, the city unscrolled on my right. After the calm of the high seas, the honking horns and dashing pedestrians jarred on my nerves. Sydney at peak hour seemed to be braying at me like a drunken man laughing too loudly in a restaurant.

‘We had a mini cyclone while you were away, too, which the Bureau of Meteorology didn’t bloody well notice until next morning, when they woke to discover that the Opera House had washed away to friggin’ Parramatta.’

His voice sounded distant, as if it were coming from the bottom of the ocean. I tried to tune in to his chatter but an unpleasant buzzing had started in my ears.

‘“Chance of showers”, the weather bloke had said. “Chance”, note. So I painted the fence with Jake, and then we went for a surf till – WHOOSH! Down it came! Buckets of the stuff. Six inches of rain in about five minutes, then press repeat all night long.’

I watched the brutish flow of cars racing towards the city on the opposite side of the highway.

All I could think about was Brody’s velvet-brown eyes, his crooked smile, his touch, his warm mouth on me.