Pearly still had the phone in his hand after calling the hospital when Kevin rang, his voice quick and confident. ‘Moorehead’s done the trick,’ he said. ‘The insurance is going to pay out after all. The buggers were obviously trying a bluff. We’ve just heard today. We’ll be okay now.’ It was good news, and Pearly responded enthusiastically, but it all seemed at some emotional distance. His own turmoil and uncertainty made it difficult for him to engage as he wished with his son’s concerns. Even as he listened to Kevin’s plans for the launch’s repair he was thinking of Deidre — and Helen. What criticism could he make then of Kevin’s absorption with his own life, his escape from failure? Kevin made no mention of the bills that would come from Jack Hughes and Ian Moorehead, showed no interest in hearing of the 125th celebrations and Gumbo’s accident. The lives of father and son made little intersection.

‘Good news,’ said Pearly heartily as he went back to the patio, but Helen wasn’t there, and so he went through to the bedroom and found her getting ready to visit Gumbo. ‘Good news,’ he announced again. He hoped it would make things easier between them, although there was no logical reason for the triumph in Auckland to alter her view of his treatment of Deidre.

‘Well, I could definitely do with that,’ she said meaningly and was relieved and pleased to hear everything but said nothing of any part he might have played in achieving the success.

‘I’m glad I went up there,’ said Pearly.

‘The least you could do,’ she said.

They didn’t talk much on the drive to the hospital. Pearly’s confession weighed on them both, but he was happy to let it lie, and Helen wished to concentrate on Gumbo’s condition for the moment. Both knew, however, that there was more to be said and done. Pearly commented brightly on the display made by the hospital gardens. ‘Yes,’ was the reply. He asked if she wanted to be dropped off close to the entrance before he parked the car. ‘No,’ she said.

Gumbo’s head was even more heavily bandaged than on Pearly’s last visit, but he was able to talk. Pearly was amazed that he was so with it after having his head cut open. Gumbo was especially pleased to see Helen, and the chin strapping accentuated his smile almost to absurdity. His sunburnt roommate smiled also, craning forward as if he expected an introduction, nodding in affirmation to comments in a conversation not intended to include him. ‘Andrew and I came when you were in theatre,’ Pearly said. ‘He wants to know how you are. He’s off back home tomorrow. I’m picking him up, so I’ll be able to tell him you’re okay.’