‘Yeah.’ Lena stood against the railing, catching her breath as Kylie unlocked the door to the unit at the far end of the landing. ‘This air’s so shit. Too much crap in the lungs, I reckon.’ Which might have been true, but also she felt her body becoming her father’s in the first months of his illness. The clicking and cracking that signalled he had stood or bent or knelt or sat; the breathlessness after walking from car to front door. Not the cancer turning his strong, young body ancient. Not directly, at least. Malnutrition, the doctor said, and she never knew whose idea it was but a regime of pot smoking was decided on and Will sent to procure the supplies, and Dad was better then, for a bit.

Lena followed Kylie into the gloom, confused for a second by the thick, sweet smell of pot as though her thoughts had taken form. At the back of the room, a man in a tall black beanie leant over a state-of-the-art bong, coloured glass and engraved brass attachments, twice the height of the two-litre bottle of Pepsi sitting next to it.

‘Ty, this is Lena. Lena, Ty.’ Kylie dumped the shopping in a doorway to her left and then placed the sleeping child on the overstuffed brown velvet sofa next to the bong and its user.

‘Hey.’

‘Hey,’ Lena said.

Ty was older than them. Older than Will. Maybe even as old as her mum or Nic. It was hard to tell for sure with his face cloaked in shadow and smoke.

‘Leen and me were mates when we were small. She’s just moved back from Queensland.’

‘Fuck the Cockroaches,’ Ty said, but with so little spirit Lena wondered why he bothered.

Lena asked to use the bathroom, took her backpack with the tampons. The toilet door had a laminated poster on it saying Best Seat in the House in fancy black font. Inside was a matching poster: Hello, Sweet Cheeks. There’d been a stack of similar posters at Nic’s. Cheap laminated prints saying things like This Home Has Endless Love and Laundry, Life is Short, Lick the Bowl and Siri, Pour More Wine. She wished she hadn’t chucked them now. They’d be a good gift for Kylie.

She returned to the living room to find Kylie sitting on the floor in front of the lounge. She patted the carpet beside her, and Lena sat.

‘So tell us what you’ve been up to.’

‘Oh, well, you know. Like I said, came back down to go to uni …’

‘Ha. Fucking Queensland don’t even have any unis. Explains a lot.’

‘Ignore him. He’s an idiot.’

‘Least I’m not a Queenslander.’

‘Yeah, so uni, hey? You doing teaching? Tara’s doing teaching. Maybe she’s finished by now. I dunno. You remember Tara? Always scratching her arms until bits of skin flew off?’ Kylie shuddered, rubbing her own bare arms.