They stood in silence for a few seconds. Then the car door opened, and Sylvie got in.

Joe came over and leant on the open window. ‘This really is a very nice car,’ he said.

She started the engine.

‘You know it’s not mine, Dad.’

‘I figured that, yeah. Harlow’s?’

‘Harlow’s mum.’

He nodded. ‘Very swish.’

There was another pause.

‘I’m pregnant, Dad.’

‘Okay,’ he said, taking his arms off the window and standing back. ‘Shit Vee, that’s. What is that? You should have told me. We could’ve. I don’t know. Had a beer.’

‘I’m telling you now.’

‘Yeah, well, that’s fantastic.’

He looked slightly stoned, certainly slightly drunk, but his smile seemed genuine. That’ll have to do, she thought.

‘Yep,’ she said. ‘It’s fantastic. Thanks, Dad. Anyway. I guess I’ll see you later.’

‘Good for you, Vee,’ he said. ‘Love you, mate. Drive safe.’ He tapped the car as she drove away.

In the rearview mirror she saw him for a second, a dark shape with his arm in the air, and then the whole camp slipped out of view, and she drove through dusty light for a while, unaccountably happy, with the windows open. For an instant she caught sight of the caravan park again — a cluster of low buildings, a tiny graveyard beneath a smear of pink sky. Then the dirt track ended at last, and she turned left, onto the main road, and drove back towards the living.

Acknowledgements

Acknowledgements

Really, I don’t know how anyone writes a book, it’s basically impossible. I do know, however, that a lot of people have helped to write this one: encouraged me, paid for me, or at least put up with me while I tried to do it.

Firstly, I’d like to thank Creative Victoria, Asialink Arts, the University of Madras, and the State Library Victoria (SLV) for their support. In particular, I’d like to thank Gail Schmidt and Des Cowley at the SLV. I had dreams in which all the secret doors in the library kept opening. Thanks to everyone else at the SLV. Thanks to Steve Bracks for beating Jeff Kennett and establishing the Creative Fellowship Program. (Take that, Jeff!) Thanks to Kerrii Cavanagh, formerly of Asialink. Huge thanks to Dr Armstrong and Dr Supala Pandiarajan, to Badusha, Jaya, and Uma, and to all the students and staff in the English department at the University of Madras for your generosity and friendship.

Thank you, crucially, to the many people who invited me into their lives and allowed me to draw upon their memories: Pardeshi, Rick Dorland, Ketan, Noela and Tony Lim, Warren Pennington, Mary Mooney, Su Dorland, John Davies, Andrew Kennon, Brian Collins, Kent Middleton, and Ray Allinson.

Thanks to my agent, Clare Forster. Enormous thanks to Sean O’Beirne and Gerard Elson for reading drafts and to Toni Jordan, Tony Birch, and Sam Cooney for agreeing to sign pieces of paper saying nice things about me. Thanks to Mary Anne Butler for helping me write that application. Humbled thanks to Tara June Winch, Josephine Rowe, Tim Rogers, and Helen Garner.