As I kneel on the grass to begin, I hear the cough of an old muffler and watch a dusty brown Holden swing around the corner. The driver parks on a slant across the bottom of our driveway, about twenty feet away from me. A man gets out of the car, pushes his sunglasses up onto his mop of hair and takes a few steps in my direction. I know who he is. Finn is exactly as my father and Charlie have described him, though they’d both neglected to say how good looking he is. He’s wearing khaki shorts, no shirt, no shoes, a leather strap around his neck. He smiles at me.

‘Hey there. I’m Finn.’

I stiffen. ‘What do you want?’

‘Pleasure to meet you, too.’ He walks up the driveway towards me as I slowly stand up, his eyes roaming over my dress, my legs. The grass will have made crisscross red marks across my knees. I shouldn’t care, but I do. ‘Beau here?’

I speak slowly, as if I’m untroubled by his presence. ‘Why do you ask?’

He lifts his eyes to mine in a way that’s almost coquettish. ‘Now, normally I wouldn’t mind a little to and fro with you but I don’t have a lot of time today. So how about you go get my son so we can be on our way.’

At first I think ‘we’ is him and Beau, but there’s a flash of movement in the car and I see that someone else is in there. Sal leans across the driver’s seat and gives me a small wave, her silver bracelets jingling. ‘Hey Abby, long time.’ She offers me a half-smile, the smile of someone who knows how beautiful she is, how elegant and desirable, and feels a little bit sorry for you being you. ‘How’s Charlie?’ she calls out. ‘Haven’t seen him since New Year’s.’

‘Fine. He’s fine. Are you going somewhere with Finn? I’m not sure I understand what’s going on.’

‘Enough with the small talk, ladies,’ Finn says, and Sal pulls back into the shade of the car. ‘Abby, princess, go get Beau. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.’

I pause. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’ I could tell Finn the truth – that Beau isn’t here, that no one is here but me – but I don’t want him to know I’m alone. I’m unsure of my choice even as I dive headlong into it. ‘Beau is so happy here. He’s settled in really well. And the kids love him. I mean, we all do. He’s –’

Finn walks closer. I clutch the secateurs. There’s no trace of friendliness in his face. He’s near enough that I can smell his sweat, his beery breath. ‘Glad to hear he’s happy. Now stop fucking around and go get him.’

‘No.’

‘Wasn’t a request.’

On the radio behind me Helen Reddy is singing about strength in numbers and unity, but there is no one here to help me. Sal sits immobile and uncaring in the car. The street in front of me is empty. I could scream, I suppose, but what would I say he’s done?