‘That’s good to hear,’ Pearly said, without turning his head towards the other bed. Gumbo gave him a bloated smile. ‘I’d better go now, but I’ll come back this afternoon. And I’ll get the ute back to your place, and ring your sister, and your boss at the school to tell him what’s happened.’ Gumbo smiled again and lifted a slow hand in farewell. Even before Pearly had reached the door he heard Gumbo’s fellow inmate begin to talk. Perhaps Gumbo would enjoy the fellowship; more likely it was yet another affliction he was forced to endure.

Early work traffic had begun as Pearly drove to Rawleigh and Gates. He unlocked the office and was glad to have time alone before Anne and Kylie would arrive. He rang Gumbo’s sister in Ashburton, who said she could be down in the evening and would see to Gumbo’s house. Later he rang Gumbo’s school and talked with the principal there. He left a message on Dr Mulvey’s voicemail regarding Gumbo’s condition, and gave the same news to Helen, but with personal detail. ‘His face is a real mess,’ he said. ‘He’s got plates in his jaw and his left leg. The doctor said they haven’t had to operate on his head.’

‘Cerebral oedema. Swelling,’ said Helen. ‘It can be critical. They open up to relieve the pressure.’

‘They haven’t had to so far, so that’s a relief. I’ll go in again after lunch. I’m going to get Anne to run me out to the school, and I’ll pick up his ute. Another few weeks and you could’ve been nursing him yourself.’

‘Let’s hope he’s well out of the place by then. Poor old Gumbo.’