‘Condensed milk.’

‘Yeah, that’s not food. What meal would use that?’

Abby walks to Dad’s side and places a small plate of sandwiches on the wide pine arm of the couch, touching his fingers to alert him to its presence.

‘A cheesecake,’ Abby says quietly. ‘If she was making a cheesecake, maybe.’

‘She stood there, dripping onto the carpet. The towel was too small to wrap around her, belly pushed it out.’ He turns his face away from us. ‘If I’d known it was the last time, I would’ve got in the bath like she asked.’

‘You should rest, Dad,’ Abby says.

‘Her cheeks were pink, hair piled on her head in a bundle, stray bits.’ He points to the side of his head. ‘She splashed water towards me. I could see her footprints pressed into the mat. If I’d known I wouldn’t see her again . . .’

‘You loved her,’ Abby murmurs.

He lifts his chin up and regards her sternly. ‘Yes. I loved her.’

My heart is pounding in my chest, it must be audible.

‘I don’t understand why she was out driving,’ Abby says. She crosses her arms, stays standing. ‘You said your friend wasn’t expecting her. Where was she going?’

Dad shakes his head. ‘I don’t know.’

‘But there was a phone call?’ I ask.

He looks at me as if I’m a simpleton. He must have made his students quake with those glowering expressions. ‘Yes, that’s what I said. And she was flustered by it. I thought it was the timing, a few hours before you were due.’ His bottom lip shakes. ‘We’d come inside from a walk around the property, checked on her tomato plants.’

‘So the phone rang when you came back from your walk?’ I ask.

‘It was a woman, but it wasn’t Carol. Spoke in an almighty rush. Said she had to talk to Skye right away. And Skye listens then says to her –’ he shakes his head in distressed confusion – ‘says, “Will you help me?” I thought it must be a complicated birth for her to ask the person on the phone for help. Then “Tell him I’m coming,” she says. The father, I assumed. She was in a flap after that, didn’t sound happy like she usually does heading to a birth. I followed her to the kitchen. We keep the keys on a . . .’ He points towards the kitchen. ‘She was so bothered she forgot her birthing bag. Rushed to the door without it until I called her back. I could see a storm was coming. But babies don’t wait, and she wouldn’t let me drive her.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me you were engaged, Dad?’ Abby says. ‘I’ve never heard her name before and now you’re engaged and she was about to meet us.’

‘Abby, not now,’ I say.

‘How did you meet her?’

‘Abby, c’mon.’

She ignores me. ‘I don’t really understand why you’d keep this from us. Did you think she might not like us?’ She has tears in her eyes.