‘Nice to see you again,’ he added, bringing Dad and Caitlin into the conversation.

‘How’s she going?’ Dad asked.

‘She’s doing great, seems to be settling in really well. She’s a great addition to the group,’ Michael said, shooting me a smile as I watched the condensation on the wine glasses drip. ‘It’d be good to chat with you, Mark, about some of the Aboriginal content we’re exploring in the history topic, if you have some time. If not, I’m fine to do my own research. I just know you’re the guru on these things.’

‘I’ll be in touch,’ Dad said. I knew he probably would be, although he’d prefer the school employ someone to do the work.

‘Good to see you,’ Michael said before taking a seat with his fellow barefoot crew on the lawn.

‘He’s so nice,’ Caitlin said. I wondered if Dad wasn’t on the scene, whether Michael was the kind of guy she’d want to date.

We moved a few more metres into the throng of people and I could see Matilda wearing an apron and pushing fruit through a juicer. I think she saw me too, but I quickly diverted my gaze to a woman painting the faces of the little kids, some of whom I recognised from my school.

‘Are you hungry yet?’ Caitlin asked us.

I shrugged and Dad said, ‘Wouldn’t mind grabbing a drink and chilling for a while before eating.’

That suited me fine, so Caitlin and I went and found a spot between all of the people on the lawn. She pulled a brightly coloured Mexican blanket out from her shoulder bag and laid it on the ground. I’d heard all about that blanket. How she’d travelled through South America after graduating from her undergraduate degree with a backpack carrying a pair of bathers, a dress, a hoodie, a couple of T-shirts, a couple of pairs of underwear and that blanket that she bought the first day at a marketplace in Chile. The Caitlin in that story seemed like a very different Caitlin from the one I knew now.

Dad came back with a couple of glasses of white wine, and a coconut juice for me.

I sat there taking it all in, the still dusk, the perfect temperature, the fairy lights. Occasionally, people from school recognised me and waved or actually came over and said hello.

While Caitlin went to get us all paella, Caroline walked past with an older white guy with blonde hair, who I assumed was her dad.

‘Hey, Caroline!’ I called out.

Caroline’s dad was holding three beers between his hands but she pulled on his shirt to drag him over our way. ‘Dad, this is Phoebe,’ she said.

‘Hi Phoebe,’ he said. Then, ‘I’m Luke,’ to Dad and they elbow tapped each other.

‘I’m Mark,’ Dad replied.

‘Phoebe’s coming around tomorrow night,’ Caroline told her father.

‘Yeah, right, well make sure to stop by for a drink if you’re dropping Phoebe off,’ Luke invited. ‘We can talk more then. It’s a bit noisy here, hey?’