‘Her friends are here, though, aren’t they?’ said Pearly encouragingly. Andrew’s realistic assessment slightly discomforted him. ‘She must’ve lived here just about all her life.’

‘Yes, she’s got friends. They talk and play mahjong together, have fun in their own way. I had a good discussion with the Meadow Haven people about support care. Everything’s starting to drift away from her now, everything’s at a distance except the past. Memory’s taking pride of place as present experience fades, and the earlier the memories, the sharper she finds them. That’s where she lives. She has no idea of my life now.’

‘You’ll be back. After the reunion’s success we expect to see plenty of you.’

‘Maybe,’ said Andrew, and after a silence they began talking, and Andrew remarked how much the town had changed as they drove into its centre.

Pearly hadn’t thought about his own mother for a long time. Her death had been both undramatic and unexpected and at a time when he was very busy with his family, his business and local politics. She went into hospital with pneumonia after a weekend visiting friends in Dunedin and died on the day after her admission. The doctors hadn’t been especially concerned when she was admitted, so the family hadn’t seen what was coming. Pearly had only visited once and spent most of the time talking about Kevin and Leanne because she loved hearing of their lives. He was at a house auction close to the golfcourse when Helen rang with news of his mother’s death. Accelerated, unexplained congestion, so there was no chance to say goodbye. He remembered the slightly odd way her hands had lain on the hospital coverlet when he’d visited, one palm up and one turned down. The palm had been fresh, like that of a much younger woman, but the back of the other hand had the thin, mottled skin of age.

She’d always had the radio on in the kitchen while she worked there, and her love had been so constant and accustomed that he’d assumed it unremarkable. She called him Pearly just like everybody else but with an inflexion only a mother could possess. He could appraise her in no other way than in her role as mother, and he wondered how she would have seemed if he’d met her as a stranger and of the same generation as himself. Met her as Jo, the girl his father fell in love with.

Andrew was quite happy to be dropped at the bus terminal, but Pearly went in with him, and they sat and talked more while waiting for departure. Andrew faced a long road trip to reach Christchurch and his flight. ‘Pearly,’ he said, ‘you’ve got to grow this town until it can support an airport.’

‘Fat chance. Regional airports are closing not opening.’