It was 9 pm, too early to sleep on a Saturday night. Pah. No, it wasn’t. I let the phone drop onto the bedspread, closed my eyes, felt the world soften, curled in on –

Dingding. Shit, huh.

Zac: At your door, dude. I forgot my key! Josh is with me. Open up!

I sat up, rubbed my face, stumbled to the front door. Zac with a bottle of wine, Josh with a bottle of cider.

‘Hey. In you come.’

A hug – oh, bring that in, yeah – with Josh.

‘How you going, brother?’ he said. ‘Are the little ones asleep?’

‘Yeah. Man, I’m so sorry about you and Mel, I’ve been meaning to visit.’

We’d been in regular text contact but that wasn’t good enough. I hadn’t even replied to Mel’s text, couldn’t get over what she’d said to Zac: that I was boring on drugs. Not that I wasn’t, I probably was, but –

Josh raised a hand of forgiveness, inhaled sharply. ‘She’s got her own place now, in Hawthorn. Apparently it’s nice. Zac’s been over, but I haven’t been there yet, obviously.’

Zac stood, his leather bag strapped over his chest. I hugged him, ushered them through to the kitchen.

Josh slid the cider into the fridge.

‘I knew you wouldn’t want to be alone tonight,’ Zac said, putting the wine on the bench.

‘Oh right.’ I itched my head.

‘The calendar said AC Drinks or something for Biddy. What’s that?’

‘The Arts Centre,’ I said. ‘I’ll get some glasses.’

Zac’s court case was in a couple of weeks. Sarah and I had offered to go with him, show some parental love, but he’d asked us not to.

‘Let’s go through here,’ I said, heading into the dining room. I put the glasses down – three different sizes – took Sophie and Oliver’s toys from the table, urged Zac and Josh to sit, to relax. Relax, everyone. Relax.

‘What’s this?’ Josh reached over to the computer desk, held up one of Sophie’s ceramic artworks from school.

‘Um, not sure.’

‘It’s a medieval tower,’ Zac said. ‘She made it with Miss Emily last semester when they were learning about the Middle Ages. See there.’ He pointed. ‘That’s meant to be the door, I believe.’

Josh examined the tower, slid his pinkie into the glazed doorway.

The Middle Ages? At five? How did Zac know more about my daughter’s schoolwork than I did?

‘I’m meant to be going into her class to read next week,’ Zac said. ‘Just waiting on my Working with Children Check to come back.’

‘They take a while to come through,’ Josh said. ‘When did you apply?’

‘A few days ago,’ Zac said. ‘I guess there’ll be other opportunities.’ He looked at me. ‘Any word from Sarah?’