We went and picked up Tara from her school. Then he drove us both to the hospital. We did not speak; or maybe we did, but I have no memory of what we might have said, none, just a sense of Abbie’s solidarity beside me, and of the buildings we passed: the oblivious glass shopfronts, a bakery, a milk bar, a bottle shop, none of which exist anymore. Abbie didn’t speak at the funeral either; he wasn’t asked, I suppose, though I don’t know why he wouldn’t have been, or he declined, and after the funeral, he moved back north without saying goodbye. The last time I had seen him was the day after the funeral. He was cleaning up, collecting beer bottles and cigarette butts. So, it was weird to hear his voice again now, and I found myself adopting the tone I remembered my father having used — wry and playful, comically masculine. The flicker of a smile in it. I hadn’t thought of that tone for a very long time, because he only ever used it with Abbie. In fact, I had the disconcerting feeling that my father was using me to speak again, as if he had sensed his chance, somehow, and was rushing through my body to seize it.

But then this feeling was shot down.

I realised, too slowly, that Abbie was saying no. He didn’t want to try and remember the seventies. He didn’t want to talk about my dad. He didn’t really want to speak to me, either.

‘I don’t think I’d be very enthusiastic about doing that,’ he said. ‘Nah.’

The silence buzzed.

‘Can I ask why?’ I heard myself say, in my own diminished voice again.

‘Well,’ Abbie said, drawing out the word good-naturedly. ‘All that stuff’s finished now, isn’t it? None of it matters anymore.’

‘None of it matters?’ I said. ‘To who? To you or to Dad?’

It was a nonsensical question. I sounded vaguely hysterical.

‘Well, certainly to him, that’s for sure,’ Abbie said, more kindly than he might have. ‘And for me. I mean all that stuff’s been a bit mythologised, I reckon.’

I had no idea what he was talking about. But isn’t that the purpose of friendship — not only to mythologise, but also to understand the truth of the myth?

Abbie suggested I speak to Denis, and to Charlie if he was still around.

I told him to call me if he changed his mind. But he didn’t call, and in fact, soon after this conversation, he left Australia for good. He moved to India and never came back.

5.

5.